I could be the good guy a JeanLogan Journey
by Janetdu
Summary: What would've happened if Jean picked Logan instead of Scott? Artistic liberty:Scott is with the team when Magneto lands the out of control plane.I started a forum for anyone who wants to discuss the fic.Under forums, movie, xmen, I Could Be The Good Guy
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 I Could Be The Good Guy

He just told me that he could be the good guy, and I wanted so much to believe him. My heart was pounding. I could hear the beats ringing in my ears as he took my hands in his. He bent his head over our hands, raised them to his lips as he inhaled their essence. It was the most erotic thing I'd ever experienced. In that breath, he knew me...he knew me as though he recognized my scent. Wolves mate for life.

"Logan, I," I was at a loss for words.

He looked up and said again "I could be the good guy." He paused, as if searching his very soul, then looked back up into my eyes and said, "I want to be the good guy…for you."

Excitement coursed through my body. It was so surreal. _This can't be happening_, I thought. _This is Logan. He was born to be the bad guy. He never listens, he does things his own way, yet he seems so sincere. Why me? Why now? Why when I'm involved with Scott….Oh God...what am I going to say to Scott? _I panicked. _I can't let this go on._

"Logan, wait" I paused. "Oh God..." I pulled my hands from his. "I don't know what to do. I can't think of what I..." I turned my face away from him, visibly shaken; he could see the inner turmoil struggling within me. He sensed my confusion and tried to reach out to me. I turned my back towards him avoiding his touch. "I just can't do this right now." I cried.

Logan came up behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders, resting them there gently. Surprise and excitement raced through my body as he leaned forward, as if to whisper in my ear. A low growl emanated from deep within him as he nuzzled the side of my neck. The sound made me quiver in anticipation.

My hands reached up to grab his which were now sliding sensuously down my arms…_uhh…he's nibbling my neck_. My pulse pounded against his lips. They were warm and moist. My left hand unconsciously worked its way up into his hair, pulling him closer, molding his mouth to my neck. I could hear him breathing into my ear, fast and hard. My mouth opened as I gulped fresh air because suddenly I couldn't breathe. _Dear God!_ Chills ran down my neck as he methodically tongued my pulse point. My body was pulsating with raw pleasure as I turned to face him. Our foreheads pressed together as we looked at each other as hunter to hunted. We were breathing hard, devouring each other with our eyes. He slightly turned his head and I followed suit until our lips touched, tentatively at first, as we breathed in each other. _Sensuous lips_ I thought as his lips roved over mine...his facial hairs tickling my cheeks, giving me a new sense of awareness of his animal-like magnetism.

I lost all thoughts of reason. Logan was the only thing I could think of, he enveloped me with his presence. The feel of his warm, strong lips on mine, his arms wrapped around me as my fingers strayed through his thick hair, the musky smell of raw male. His mouth opened on mine and I felt his tongue parting my lips. My mouth answered as our tongues teased and stroked each other in wild abandon. He consumed me.

My hands reached to touch the corded muscles in his neck as I nibbled his lips and sucked on his tongue. I felt wild and wicked and I wanted to be the bad girl to his bad guy. _What has come over me?_

I wrenched my mouth away. "Logan"...I breathed against his mouth as I struggled to catch my breath. He was relentless. He captured my mouth once more in a quick hard kiss.

"Logan," I lamented. "I can't do this to Scott." Logan started to shake his head in denial.

"No," he said, "I don't want you to do this to Scott either. But," he said as he stared intently into my eyes, "we belong together."

I felt it...I knew it...but I was torn. I belonged to another. I turned away from Logan and said over my shoulder, "I need some time to think" and I ran out into the woods. I ran until my sides ached and I thought my lungs would burst from the exertion. I came to an abrupt halt and doubled over, my hands on my knees, breathing deep and hard. Sweat poured from every pore in my body as I tried to catch my breath. _What am I going to do?_

_Scott doesn't deserve this, he loves me. And I love him, right? But would I be content with Scott now knowing that I wanted another? It wasn't fair. Life in general just wasn't fair. Why did this have to happen? I was content, I was happy...or so I thought, until tonight. _

_I have to talk to Scott. I just have to._ The guilt was eating me up inside. I didn't mean for this to happen. _Oh God, how can I tell him?_ The feeling of dread that welled up inside of me was nearly unbearable. _He deserves to know_. _I can't deceive him. And he should hear it from me.__ Ok, Jean, get a hold of yourself_. _Be strong. Think-think about what you're going to say and how you're going to say it. He's going to be so disappointed in me, _I thought miserably. _I always do the right thing, but this time I don't know what the right thing is anymore else I'd never have let Logan kiss me._

I took a deep cleansing breath, lifted my head and pushed my shoulders back. _Ah, that feels better_. I made my decision. I had to tell Scott and I would do it now. It's better to get it over and done with. The sooner the better. I slowly made my way out of the woods and found the path that led back to the camp. I thought of what I would say, how Scott would react. I prayed I'd find the right words.

I found him by the fire. The firelight reflected off his hair and cast a warm glow to his face. He was so handsome, boyishly so. The light made me just want to run my fingers through his hair and kiss those silken cheeks of his. I was so confused. I couldn't believe those thoughts were even running through my head. He turned when he heard me approach and gave me a smile that just a few moments before would have melted my heart.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

He patted the earth beside him for me to join him. I shook my head no and reached my hand out to him. "Let's go for a walk." Scott reached up and took my hand as he rose.

"Where to?" he asked.

"I don't know." I said, "Maybe towards the lake, it's peaceful there."

We walked quietly hand in hand for what seemed like an eternity. I was shaking inside as we came to the clearing. The lake glimmered in the moonlight. The trees cast eerie shadows along the shoreline, blowing wistfully with the breeze. A feeling of unnamable dread came over me as I struggled to find the words. A myriad of thoughts ran rampant in my head. "Scott," I said hesitantly as I squeezed his hand and looked up at him.

"What is it Jean?" He searched my face with pensive apprehension. "Something's wrong. You're shaking." He smoothed his hands up and down my arms in an attempt to soothe me. I just stood there, motionless, not knowing what to do.

I looked at him with a feeling of helplessness. "Nothing...everything" I paused, "I don't know how to do this." I half mumbled to myself.

He cupped my chin in his hand and lifted it to look into my eyes. He saw the pain I was experiencing reflected in them. I could feel the confusion in him. I could hear it in his voice when he asked, "Do what?"

I looked away. I didn't want to do this, God knows. But I had to do it. "Scott," I said hesitantly, "I need to tell you something. Something, I struggle to find the words for." He looked at me worriedly. I could see his despair. "Scott, you are so wonderful to me. I…I don't know what I would have done without you in my life."

"Jean, don't," he interrupted.

I couldn't let him. "Shh…, Scott, please-let me get through this." I silently begged him to understand. "I'm having these feelings...these conflicting emotions, and I don't know what to do."

"Conflicting emotions about what?" he asked.

"About us," I said, the knot in my stomach was growing rapidly by the minute. I had to get this over with. I had to get this behind me. "Scott, I care about you so much, and I wouldn't want to hurt you for anything in the world...but,"

Scott interrupted me "What are you trying to say Jean?" The anger was apparent in his voice.

"I'm saying I'm having feelings…feelings for someone else." I turned away from him, unable to face him. He grabbed my arm and turned me back around to face him.

"It's Logan, isn't it?" he queried the irritation evident in his tone.

"Yes," I replied quietly.

"I'll kill him," Scott countered, "I told him to leave you alone!"

"No, Scott, you can't." I cried. "It wasn't his fault. It's mine. Ever since I tapped into the dark recesses of his mind I've felt and have fought this attraction to him. I can't fight it any longer. I hate hurting you Scott, but I know that if I don't do this and don't try with Logan, I'll regret it for the rest of my life. I'll always wonder what could have been." I searched his face. "I couldn't make you happy like that Scott, and you deserve happiness." The tears coursed down my face and I hated myself at that very moment.

I could tell he couldn't believe that this was happening. "Please, Jean" he said, "Don't do this to us." He clasped me to him as he buried his face in my hair. "I love you...please." I held him for what seemed like an eternity yet only a few moments had passed.

I gently pulled from him, holding him at arm's length. "I have to Scott," I said miserably.

He looked up, bringing his hands up to capture mine, a look of resignation on his face as he said, "He'll only hurt you."

A slight smile came across my face as I said, "I know. I'm willing to take that risk."

I squeezed his hands and turned away, slowly walking back towards camp. _It's over_, I thought. I should feel relieved, yet I felt like shit. How could I do that to him after all we had been through together? How could I treat him like that? I just crushed my best friend. How could I callously throw away the love of a wonderful man like Scott for a loner like Logan? I didn't have the answers. I only knew that I did what I had to do.

Tears fell unchecked onto my cheeks. I could barely see. Only when I bumped into something as solid as a tree did I finally wipe the tears from my eyes and look up. _Logan_...my heart thumped wildly.

"Whoa there," he said as he clasped my upper arms to steady me. He looked at me with that one eyebrow of his cocked up. "Is everything okay?" he asked. I looked up at him bewildered.

I closed my eyes and shook my head to clear the cobwebs. "Yes," I said as the world began to clear. I saw the moonlight behind him, casting him in shadow, yet giving him an illuminated view of my tear-streaked face.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"I just talked to Scott." I managed to get out.

"Did he hurt you?" Logan wanted to know. The concern was evident in his voice.

I shook my head in the negative, "No, no of course not...he'd never hurt me." I was shaking again. "I told him." I said quietly.

Logan looked at me questioningly, "Told him? About?"

"About us." I interjected.

Logan drew me to him and held me tight. I wrapped my arms around his waist as my cheek rested against his chest. He stroked my hair as I breathed deeply, and sighed. I felt warm and safe and content. The feeling of relief finally came, overwhelming me. I still felt bad for hurting Scott, but knew deep down, I needed to be with Logan.

The air about us changed abruptly; it fairly crackled with tension. I could feel Logan's body as it tensed automatically, smelling the danger. I turned about. It was Scott; he had come upon us as he made his way back towards camp. I was mortified that Scott would see us like this in a warm embrace. But I was not a coward as I faced him.

Scott looked at Logan chillingly and with a warning in his voice said, "If you ever hurt her, I'll kill you."

Logan looked back at Scott in all seriousness and said, "If I ever hurt her—I'd expect you to."

With that, Scott gave one more look toward me and said, "Jean, if you ever need me, I'll be there for you." He gave a quick nod towards Logan and then he walked away.

I became aware of the warm pressure at my hip. It was Logan's hand around my waist holding me close to him. I looked up at him as he watched Scott leave. The pressure increased as he pulled me towards him. He looked down at me and gave me a little squeeze. I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath until he squeezed it out of me. A shaky laugh escaped me. He squeezed my waist again, in that sensitive spot making me jump, my heart racing as I stared at him in stunned surprise. He realized he'd touched a nerve and began to tickle my sides in earnest. We started to laugh as I tried to tickle him back. My hands gripped his sides as I tried to squeeze into his tickle spot--it wasn't working, but he was tickling me to the point where I could barely stand. My knees started to buckle as I reached for his shoulders to steady myself.

I was laughing and breathless as I looked up into Logan's eyes. In the space of a heartbeat the laughter died quickly only to be replaced by an acute awareness. My chest was pressed against Logan's, his arms now wrapped around me, his hands caressing my buttocks, gently kneading them to him. My breath caught in my throat as I gazed into his warm green eyes. I could see desire there—raw, aching desire. My pulse raced in anticipation of what was to come. His head bent low as his lips brushed lightly against mine. His lips were soft and moist as they moved over and over mine. He coaxed my tongue from its silken hiding place. My arms wound their way around his neck as my fingers entwined themselves in his silky hair. Guttural sounds escaped me as I tried to match him, but he was devouring me. His tongue was large and rough as it invaded my mouth, circling, caressing, teasing my senses. I was mindless in my rapture as he ground himself into my pelvis. I felt him loom large against me as he pulled me even closer.

I reached up to caress his cheeks to have better access to his mouth when it hit me, _WHAM!_ Lightening coursed through my entire being. As my hands seized the sides of his face I was stunned by the rocketing emotions I was feeling. Only they were not my emotions I was feeling…_They were Logan's_. They came rushing into me, pounding against me like giant, angry waves crashing over the dunes. Churning over and over again they came, unbidden and unleashed. I was overwhelmed with emotion, yet numbed by its intensity. It was incredulous! _Dear God! _I could read his mind, his very thoughts. I could _feel_ the wealth of emotion running through him. It was like him, powerful, arrogant, secretive. All shadows and hues, then clarity. His strengths, his weaknesses, his insecurities, I could touch his very soul. And I ached for him.

I began to tingle all over…He wanted me. _God, how he wanted me_. He wanted me more than he had ever wanted another woman, more than he had ever wanted anything. He wanted to have me, to possess me, to love me, to cherish me. _Oh my God, the things he wanted to do to me!_ Desire, hot and burgeoning coursed through my loins making me quake with longing. I could see it in his mind's eye…our bodies straining together in naked abandon. I could see the sweat glistening off our bodies, the mutual meeting of body and soul, the straining towards each other, the satisfaction of total possession--making love in the hot rage of passion. I could feel what he wanted to do to me and I was throbbing at the thought of it.

_He wanted me to love him_… The shock of that hit me full force as I dropped my hands and pulled away searching his face. Shock reflected in his eyes, making them look more hazel than green. A sign of agitation. At that moment he knew I knew. The recognition was there. I had been caught. I'd invaded his mind, without his permission, without meaning to, without... _He thinks I did it on purpose. He'll never forgive me. He doesn't know it just happened. My God, how could it have just happened? I have to make him understand…I have to… _A look of helplessness came over me as my heart sank to the pit of my stomach. And either he knew and he understood or didn't care but those lovely green eyes turned deep and warm with emotion and conveyed to me that it didn't matter as he crushed me to him in another mind-numbing kiss.

Our breaths were coming fast and furious as we suddenly broke apart. You could see our breath mingling with the cold air as we sucked precious oxygen back into our lungs. "Awh." he muttered in my ear. "God...If we don't stop now... No, not here." He looked around, sensing all around him, then he took my hand and said, "Come."

"Where?" I asked, still reeling from his kiss.

"Does it matter?"

I smiled a slow seductive smile. "No."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

We started walking. We were quiet as we picked our way up the trail. I noticed we were heading towards the mountains instead of the lake. That suited me just fine. There was something so right about going there with Logan. The mountains seemed like home to him, so wild and earthy.

We could hear the sweet melodic sounds of the night...the air crisp and clean. I looked up and saw a myriad of stars gracing the dark sky, twinkling at us. We walked in silence, the cold air still in the night, my hand firmly encased in his. He led us up a winding trail and beyond. The path narrowed and became so overrun with growth I could barely discern where it was. But Logan instinctively knew where we were heading. We left the path and he made his way without faulting. _He's been here before. __I can sense it_.

We were going farther up the mountain, winding our way. The evergreen trees grew thick and tall, majestic in the moonlight. The creatures of the night were silent as we passed. I could hear the twigs crunching under my footsteps as we made our way. I could see a small structure up ahead in the distance. As we made our way through the trees and brush, a small rustic cabin loomed before us, dark and uninviting. It looked abandoned and full of foreboding. Fear rushed through my body. I stopped abruptly, thinking where are we and what are we doing? Have I lost my mind? I can't go through with this.

Logan paused and glanced back, "What's the matter?" He looked at me with those damn green eyes of his; the eyes that made me just want to melt.

"I..." I started undecidedly as I looked away. "I can't." I whispered.

Logan looked at me uncertainly. "You can't what?" he queried.

"I can't do... this." I said spreading my arms wide. That feeling was back--that tied up in knots feeling was overwhelming me, threatening to consume me. "You don't even know me, Logan." I said to him. "You know nothing about me." I cried.

He pulled me into his arms and said, "I know everything I need to know about you Jean. Anything else, and we'll learn. Together."

I looked up at him. He looked so sincere...and I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that everything would be all right...that I was making the right decision. Deep down I knew it was destiny. But I was too afraid to admit it to myself. I was at war with myself, and losing the battle. I couldn't believe I was doing this. God I wanted him so badly…yet I was afraid...afraid of...what?

Logan interrupted my thoughts; a smile on his face, he looked down at me and said, "I'll tell you what...If you can resist me, you win. I back down. I won't force myself on you, we'll just talk. But, if you can't...well, we'll just see what happens. Deal?" He smiled that coaxing smile of his. I couldn't think clearly when he looked at me like that. _Jean, get a hold of yourself and think. You know you want him. It can be a win-win situation, right? If I win, and I can resist him, is that what I really want? In the end I really lose. But if you lose Jean...you win...you win Logan. Isn't that what you want? Isn't that the reason you're here in the first place? _Chills ran through me at the mere thought._ He's cocky, _I thought. Well, I wasn't about to let him get away with that.

"You think you're so irresistible, do you?" I asked saucily.

He settled in to me, his arms around my waist pulling me closer to him. "Mmmmm" he mumbled against my lips. "We'll see," he said as his lips closed on mine. It was rapturous! His tongue invaded my mouth, searching mine. They met and melded against each other in a tumultuous rhythm. My heart was racing. I reached up against my own will to pull him closer to me, my hand sliding up to run my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. It was surprisingly, soft and rich in texture. I loved the silky feeling of it sidling against my hands and through my fingers. My breath caught in my throat as he moved his lips from mine to my throat. I could feel his lips moving as he breathed against my neck.

I smoothly pushed away from him, holding him at arms length. "Yes," I managed, breathing hard..."We'll see." And I slowly backed away from him as a seductive smile crept to my lips.

The look on Logan's face was priceless, a mixture of shock and lust. _Good, he deserved that, the cheeky bugger! Whew...I need to gather my wits. I can't just jump into bed with him. Better to wait...a while anyway._

I headed towards the cabin and stepped up onto the porch. It looked deserted. I peered into the window but couldn't see inside. I tried the handle to open the door. It was locked; and it was freezing outside. Funny how I was all warm and cozy when I was in Logan's arms, yet now, without his body braced against mine, I was freezing my ass off. Logan came up beside me and fished a key from his pocket. He held it up to me with a smile and unlocked the door.

"This is your place?" I asked.

"It's mine." He said as he pushed open the door. "Let me get the lights." I stood there out on the small porch as I listened to Logan bump around in the dark.

_It's beautiful here_, I thought as I looked at the reflection of the moonlight in the window. I heard a scraping sound and a flicker of light and the candle was lit. Logan moved about the room lighting all those he could find and beckoned to me to enter.

I stepped across the threshold. "Let me get a fire going." He said as he clapped his hands together. "It's cold in here." He walked over to the fireplace and proceeded to build a fire. I stood there in the doorway just watching him as he bent low reaching for the wood. His broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his jacket as he lit and stoked the fire. His profile was illuminated in the firelight...a strong face...a proud face...a lonely face. So handsome. My heart pounded in my ears.

He stood up and came back toward me. He reached around me to close the door. "I'm sorry." I said as I turned to close the door for him--thinking how stupid I must be just standing there like an idiot with the door wide open letting more cold air in! I quickly pressed the door closed and out of the corner of my eye I could see Logan's hands as they pressed against the closed door on either side of me.

I felt his breath on the back of my neck. He's trapped me. Excitement coursed through me! I could feel the air fluttering against my neck and I sensed him moving closer. Goosebumps rose on the back of my neck, anticipation flooding my body. I was giddy with pleasure as I turned to face him.

He looked smug as he started to lean into me pressing me back against the door. My heart began that rapid staccato as I drowned in his eyes. He paused and hovered right above my lips, his eyes searched mine. His lips parted as he lowered his head to mine. My open mouth gasped as I felt his body press fully against mine as our lips met. My arms slid around his waist as our tongues entwined, his hands moved to my face. I felt him palm my chin as he sought better access while his rough tongue caressed mine. His nose bent against my cheek as we strove to get closer. _Oh my God! I'm on fire!_

I tore my mouth away, as I gasped for air. My exposed neck was too much for him to resist as he started his attack anew working his way up to my ear. There he nibbled and suckled, driving me wild with desire! I felt him pull the lobe of my ear into his mouth; his teeth biting me softly as his tongue lapped my lobe like a dog might lick a tasty morsel. His rough tongue stroked ever so sensuously. He was relentless in his pursuit. And I was powerless to stop him.

My knees buckled beneath me as Logan continued his onslaught of my senses! I could feel his hands as he slid them beneath my knees to lift me into his arms and carry me across the room and into the adjoining bedroom. I jumped as cold sheets touched my body jolting me out of my reverie, but I didn't have time to contemplate the cold as I felt Logan's body cover mine as he captured my lips in another torrid embrace.

The firelight from the other room cast warm shadows across the bed. I grabbed hold of his hair, holding him close as his hands ran up and down my body driving me crazy with desire. I felt the jacket I was wearing slowly peel away from me exposing my tight black tank top. Logan rose to his knees and stripped off his jacket all the while never taking his eyes off mine. He wanted me. I could see it in the darkening of his eyes. And I wanted him. Wanted him so badly, I ached with every ounce of my being. He stretched out beside me and just looked at me, paralyzing me with his gaze. The intensity of it rocked me. And just when I thought I couldn't take it much longer he started nuzzling my neck, his breath hot against my skin. I could feel my quick intake of breath as his hand found my breast, pulling away the material exposing the bare globe; kneading, molding, caressing, making me writhe with yearning! His lips wound a trail from my neck to my breast where he replaced his hand and suckled deep, his tongue circling and teeth nibbling at my nipples. They were hard with desire. I strove to get closer.

A deep guttural sound emanated within him, like a low growl. Hearing it made me pulsate from within. God I wanted him. I was dying as his hand caressed my hip, pulling me to him, grinding against him as his hands cupped and molded my buttocks to him. I could feel him hard against me. Our belt buckles clinked as metal rubbed against metal. His hand massaged the back of my thigh as he pulled my leg over his allowing him better access to me. He stroked and rubbed between the apex of my thighs. _It's not enough. _I thought _I need to feel him. To really feel him…inside of me. _I pulled his face to mine and choked out "I want you." and proceeded to show him how much. My lips crushed his in a scorching embrace, branding him as mine. He responded in kind as he worked loose the buckle to my belt. _Hurry_ I thought. I could feel the cold air hit my skin as it was exposed. The sheets, now warmed, caressed my body like a silken cocoon. His hand caressed me outside my silken panties, rubbing the nub of my pleasure until I couldn't stand it anymore. I sucked in my breath as I bucked wildly beneath him. _I needed more._

I rolled over and onto Logan, straddling him as I looked at his surprised face. I sat tall and proud smiling down at him as I placed my hands under his tank and I rubbed across his stomach up to that finely chiseled chest. The hairsfelt rough and wiry against my palms. The muscles bulged beneath my fingertips. I could feel my palms sweating slightly I was so excited. I pulled the shirt over his head and leaned forward to bite at his chest. The nibbling and teasing were sweet torture to him. I pulled one nipple into my mouth and sucked hard. He grabbed me by the hair and molded me to his chest, "You're killing me" he said breathlessly. I could hear his heartbeat pounding against his chest. I felt powerful that I could make him respond so. It was exhilarating. It made me bold.

I lifted myself up, sat back and reached down for his belt buckle. I started to undo it, very slowly. I could see Logan's intake of breath as his stomach contracted while I slowly lured his zipper down. My eyes followed the thick line of hair down as I peeled away his pants. He wasn't wearing underwear and his manhood sprung out to meet me. I rubbed up against him, teasing him with my body, my thong rubbing against me and against him. I was hot and wet and ready for him. He pulled my tank over my head and reached for my breasts, worshiping them with his mouth. I pulled his head closer to me, grabbing fistfuls of hair as I writhed in pleasure.

His hands worked their magic all over my body, teasing me, stroking me. I felt a 'pop'..._he's broken my thong._.._Oh my God_...I felt his fingers caressing me, opening me, readying me as he guided himself to me, slowly, inexorably. We were slick with sweat and I licked his skin and savored the salty taste. I felt him slip inside me, filling me like no other. I gasped as he grabbed my hips and started to guide me into pleasure, moving me, meeting me. I could feel the volcano building deep inside of me; the pulsating, throbbing need consumed me as we ground against each other in ecstasy. I screamed my release as Logan roared back and yelled his.

I collapsed against him as my heart fought to return to a normal rhythm, the aftershocks still rocking me. He kissed the top of my head while he caressed my back. I felt replete and content as I let the gentle tide of sleep wash over me. The last thing I remembered hearing before Morpheous claimed me was Logan whispering in my ear, "Wolves mate for life."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

I inhaled deeply, and let my breath out slowly as I stretched my legs against the smooth cotton sheets and tried to sink further into the soft mattress. Dreamily, I smiled against the pillow not really wanting to wake up. A feeling of contentment filled me. I sighed against the pillow. _Logan._ I could feel the blush creeping up my neck, flaming hot against my cheeks as I remembered.

The memories flashed back to me in rapid staccato. It was reminiscent of a flip book of pictures. The images came to me one after another, _click_, me as the aggressor, _click_, claiming him as mine, _click_, taking the advantage, _click_, the boldness in my caress,_ click_, relishing each moment, _click_, the power of his touch, _click_, the hardness of his body, _click_, and Logan kissing me in the most intimate of places c_lick_.

I started to squirm. That's when I became aware of Logan's arm draped across me. I could feel his chest pressed against my back, his arm across my middle, his loins spooning mine. His hot breath caressed the back of my neck, making the little hairs stand up on end, the prickling vibration reverberating through my entire body. I started to quiver. I knew when he awoke, for I felt his leg move subtly between mine, and I could feel the coarse hair rubbing sensuously against the back of my thighs. It sent shivers up my spine. He squeezed me tight against him as he nibbled on my shoulder making me tingle. He trailed a path from my shoulder to my neck, nipping, licking, sucking – making me strain against him. I could feel his excitement pressing against me. _I could lie like this forever._

He turned me onto my back and smiled down at me. It was strange to see Logan smile like that; he looked happy, content and ready for more loving. He had a teasing look about him. I liked it and I smiled back up at him. I reached up and stroked his hair, all mussed up from our loving. I liked it better that way. He looked sexy and all male as he leaned down to place kisses on my eyelids; his soft lips grazing first one and then the other…moving down to my cheek, the curve of my jaw to the corner of my mouth and finally my reaching my lips. His were soft yet determined as they touched mine, savoring their taste. His tongue darted across them as he sought entrance. I moaned as I granted him access and our tongues entwined, parrying, thrusting in an age old rhythm.

His hand stroked my collarbone, sending shivers running down my body as his tongue danced with mine. He fondled my breasts, cupping them, molding them together. He tore his lips from mine and started a new trail down my neck, pausing to suck hard on my neck at its pulse point, making me writhe with wanting. His hand continued its onslaught, moving lower, his mouth followed its lead, replacing the hand on my breast, suckling me. I wrapped my arms around his head holding him ever closer, pulling him tightly to me as I gasped for air. He murmured his approval but never strayed from his task, his dark head bent with purpose. His hand moved lower gliding against my hip, pulling me up towards him, against him, my leg unconsciously trying to climb aboard him as he cupped my buttocks and clasped me to him. _God I want him. _I thought as I struggled for control. It was a losing battle.

His hand moved ever lower, gliding against my skin, skimming my stomach, pressing my pelvis, to sink into the dark curls of my womanhood. I gasped. He stroked and teased me until I was thrashing about the bed in ecstasy. I could feel myself clenching about his fingers as I sought my release only for him to stop as I balanced precariously on the precipice of sanity.

"Don't stop." I begged breathlessly.

He looked at me then, his eyes glazed with hunger, gauging the intensity of my feelings then covered my body with his. He held himself up on his arms as he gazed into my passion-filled eyes. I looked deeply into his, and all the raw emotion I had inside of me threatened to overflow. My eyes welled up with unshed tears.

"I love you Jean," he said.

I reached up to smooth his face; my fingers grazed his jaw-line and moved up to trace his arched brow. He moved against me, never taking his eyes off of mine. How different from Scott I mused. I could never look into his eyes. I never really knew what I was missing, until now. It was incredible! I opened my mouth to speak but was cut off by Logan's kiss, robbing me of my senses. Desire washed over me anew. _I need more._ I wrapped my lengthy limbs around his narrow waist, bringing him closer, encouraging him to enter as I arched my back against him. He teased me, hovering ever so close yet not close enough. I writhed against him in frustration to no avail. He wasn't budging. He wanted me to be an active participant. He wanted to make sure I knew what I wanted. He wanted me to touch him. I reached down and encompassed his raging member with my hand. He smiled against my mouth. I buried my face in his neck as I shamelessly guided him to me.

He filled me completely to the core of my being. He stopped when he was buried to the hilt. Beads of perspiration appeared on his face, as he steadied himself. He reached for my hands, placing them on either side of my head as his fingers interlaced with mine. I felt our palms touching, sweating from exertion.

"Look at me Jean," he commanded as he moved inside of me. I was helpless to deny him. I could see the pleasure he was having watching me watching him as I rocked against him. _Give it to me_. I gripped his hands tighter arching higher as I came nearer to the edge of reason. Waves of pleasure rippled over me as I looked into Logan's face. _Uhhh, Oh God! _I thought as my insides gripped tighter in instant gratification. His breath caught in his throat, he sucked the air into his lungs only for it to whoosh back out again in a rush. Guttural sounds escaped him as he fought for air. The crescendo came. With his eyes open he looked into mine as he spilled his release at the same time I found mine. I throbbed with the pleasure of aftershocks as they assailed my body. I could feel myself contracting around Logan, a short laugh escaped me. _Oh my God!_ I thought. _Oh God that was good! _

He could feel it. He smiled at me and asked, "Good?"

"Mmmmmm" I purred. "Better than good." I took a deep breath and let it out shakily. I was overwhelmed with emotion. I had never experienced such an earth shattering release. It was all because of Logan. I started crying. The tears poured from my eyes, happy tears, tears of joy. I had found my soul mate.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Logan didn't know what to think. He'd never had this kind of a reaction to his love-making before. Why was she crying? Had he hurt her? Confusion flashed across his face as his dark brows drew together. Did he do something wrong? He swallowed hard: a feeling of helplessness overcame him. He didn't like it. Was this what love did to you? Made you all vulnerable and feeling sick inside? His stomach clenched involuntarily; he didn't know what to do, what to say. He pulled Jean's chin up, looking down at her face, trying to discern her reaction in the dark.

"Jean, are you all right?" the concern was palpable in his voice. She didn't answer him. She could only nod her head as she buried her face in his neck. Her tears still flowed; he could feel them hot against his collarbone. The cool air hit the salty rivulets as they made their way down his chest. He was powerless to stop them. He didn't understand her. One moment she was a hungry tiger, pouncing on him, ready to devour him. The next she was a fragile piece of crystal, shattering into a million pieces. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. It was all he could do.

His nose and lips pressed against her hair as he held her. He loved her scent; it was fresh and clean and tinged with spice. It suited her somehow; it was familiar yet exotic, strangely intoxicating. He inhaled slowly, savoring the smell. He wanted to be everything to her, her friend, her lover, her confidant. The feeling threatened to overwhelm him; it came over him so suddenly, with such intensity. He squeezed her tightly to him. She was his now, he thought as he smiled into her hair. She was his.

He didn't know how long he lay there like that, just holding her, smelling her. He could hear her even breathing and knew she had fallen asleep. She trusted him, and that knowledge stunned him. No one had ever trusted him before; not without reservation, not without trepidation, he thought to himself. But then why would they? He hadn't exactly been Mr. Congeniality. People took one look at the freak and practically ran the other way. They were wary of strangers, and he didn't exactly 'blend' in with a crowd. He stood out like a rusty nail on a polished table. It didn't matter where he was, it was always the same. Different cities, the same reactions; the wary looks, sidelong glances, the whispers and inevitably it would end up in a confrontation. Sometimes they were avoidable, sometimes not. The 'nots' were the hardest; because when they found out he was a mutant, they were out for blood. Fortunately, it wasn't his blood that was so often spilt. Then it was time to move on. He never stayed long enough in any one place to feel comfortable, until he met Jean. _Jean_ he thought with a tenderness that threatened to engulf him; she awakened feelings inside of him that he never knew he was capable of feeling. Jean saw beyond his intimidating looks and saw the man underneath; she wasn't afraid of him, she was his friend and now his lover. She was caring and compassionate, and oh what a passion she has! He smiled to himself and looked down at her, her head still buried in his neck, her palm resting innocently against his chest. He reached down to place his hand over hers, savoring the moment. He inhaled deeply: God how he loved her! His heart swelled as his thoughts drifted to earlier in the day.

What had possessed him to approach Jean as they made camp? Maybe it was the fear of losing her forever, he thought. As the plane was going down the only thing he could think of was how they hadn't had enough time together, that he didn't try hard enough, and now it was too late. He started to think about how close he came to losing her; just how short life could be, and how he didn't want to waste any more of it without her. He thought about what he wanted out of life. Up to this point it wasn't much, he thought dourly. He wasn't by nature one to get involved. He was a loner and liked it that way— until he found himself looking up into the warm eyes of Jean Grey. The moment he met her he wanted her; and she, he knew instinctively, wanted him. It was palpable, he knew it and she knew it. From the moment he grabbed her wrist in the examination room, he knew: she was the one. Call it intuition, a sixth sense, a knowing beyond the physical bonds—whatever you want—she was to be his. He needed to make it so.

There was only one obstacle standing in the way of his happiness as he saw it. Scott. How the two of them ever got together, he'd never know. He could see why Scott would fall for Jean, what man wouldn't; but he could not for the life of him see what Jean saw in Scott. He was such a Boy Scout. "I love him," she had told him, dashing his hopes that they could ever be together. But that didn't stop him from wanting her. He tried to keep his distance from her, but the two of them were always being brought back together again for one project or another, much to Scott's chagrin. He didn't trust Logan, and Logan didn't blame him. He didn't trust himself with Jean. Given the time and the opportunity he'd try to make her forget all about Scott. But that wasn't going to happen anytime soon, or so he thought.

He couldn't believe his luck when Scott left camp to forage for supplies to make a fire. Jean was still in the plane, while the others were setting up tents and exploring the area. It was the perfect opportunity to talk to her, while she was alone. He shifted his weight uncomfortably from one side to the other as he waited for her outside the plane. When she came down the steps he was waiting for her. All thoughts of what he wanted to say flew out of his mind at the sight of her. He was always stunned by her innate beauty. The air crackled with electricity as she saw him waiting for her. He loved the way she got embarrassed whenever they were alone together; the way the blush would creep up her neck. He knew he affected her. He could see the way her breath would catch in her throat, the desire spark within her eyes only to be quickly replaced with shyness as she looked away. He knew he was getting to her. He could _feel_ it. She wanted him— she just didn't want to admit it. He knew she felt a sense of loyalty to Scott, but didn't she realize— they belonged together.

He never imagined it would end this way, he thought as he was brought out of his reverie and back to the present, Jean resting on his chest as they lay naked in his bed. Contentment filled him. Yes, he had hoped, but he hadn't gotten his hopes up too high. He had braced himself for the rejection. One last try. And when she ran from him, he thought it was over, that was the end, she'd made her choice and it wasn't him. He was angry at himself for letting himself get so emotionally involved. He was leaving for good when she came stumbling back upon him. One look at her and he thought she'd been hurt, he saw the tears coursing down her cheeks, her face splotchy from her grief. He had asked her if she was ok. The surprise and elation that filled him when she told him she'd left Scott. The surreal feeling that came over him when he realized that she chose him, Logan, made him happy beyond measure.

His luck was changing, he thought. He inhaled her scent one more time and fell into a deep contented sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The fire had died down and the chill was permeating the room with gentle persistence. Logan got up and padded over to the living area. The movement wakened me and I peered out from beneath the covers. I sidled over to the warm spot he just vacated as I watched him. There was Logan, naked as the day he was born, crouching in front of the fire, bringing the embers back to life. I could see the flames licking in the air and sparks flew about him as he tossed another log onto the fire. _He'd better be careful_ I thought, thinking of his naughty bits and I started to giggle. Didn't want those to be damaged, I thought with a wide grin. He turned back to look at me, giving me a quizzical glance. Do men have any idea how funny they look when they squat down naked? I didn't think so, or they wouldn't do it. I laughed harder.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"You are," I retorted, choking on my laughter. Even a lovely specimen of manhood like Logan looked ridiculous. He placed more wood on the fire until it was roaring again. I could hear the crackle and pop of the wood as the flames licked ever higher.

I became aware of my surroundings for the first time. The bedroom was sparsely furnished, the walls a nondescript pale color. Just a bed, and a nightstand with an oil filled lamp resting on it. No pictures on the wall, no knickknacks on the nightstand. The room contained nothing to indicate what sort of man lived here. It looked cold and desolate without Logan's humanizing presence. And it spoke volumes to me. Here was a loner, someone who didn't want to let anyone else in, didn't want them to get to know the man beneath the hard shell exterior, no past—only the present and the present wasn't much. I looked out into the living room as there was no real door separating the bedroom. A lightweight curtain was tacked up and held back on either side allowing the fire from the fireplace to warm the bedroom. I burrowed deeper under the covers. The soft glow emanating from the hearth cast both rooms in soft shadows. An overstuffed couch and a table with two chairs were the only pieces of furniture in the living room/kitchen combination. An old-fashioned wood stove and a pump at the sink completed the kitchen. A couple of homespun rugs that had probably been there since the beginning of time were placed strategically in the room, one under the table and the other in front of the couch which sat cattycorner to the fireplace. Again, no pictures were evident anywhere. A couple of hooks to hang coats on the wall were the only adornments. Who was this man who lived here: A man without a past; a man who couldn't remember his past; or perhaps a man who didn't want to remember his past? He was such an enigma to me.

Logan stood up and stretched, flexing those pumped biceps. I could see the outline of his finely sculpted back, how it started wide with the muscular broad shoulders and tapered down to his narrow waist. _God he's beautiful,_ I thought to myself. He was an Adonis. The firelight played over his body, highlighting the rippling muscles with a warm glow; the shadows half concealing his face. _He moves like a panther, all sinewy and sleek. _

He moved stealthily toward me.

"So, I'm funny am I?" he queried. I could hear the mischief in his tone. I started to tingle.

"Yes, you are," I said as I smiled under the covers. He continued toward me, his body movements animalistic in grace as he slowly approached.

"You think so?"

"Yes," I squeaked as I ducked under the covers. He pounced on the bed bouncing me off of the mattress and pulled the covers out of my hand. _Whoa! _It took me a moment to settle back down and the next thing I knew he had moved beside me and had us both under the covers from head to toe. All of a sudden it was hot under there, both of us breathing heavily, laughing; our foreheads pressed together, our limbs tangled together as we strove to get the chill out. I pulled Logan's face toward mine and gently touched his lips, breathing his breath as my leg sinuously slid along his thigh. We kissed slowly, tenderly. His breath was hot against my face as we drew apart.

"Now tell me, what was so funny?" he asked as he wrapped his arms around me.

I giggled.

"Tell me," he insisted as he grabbed my sides and squeezed, pinning me to the mattress. I tried to pull away but he held me fast as he repeated his request, "Tell me." I was laughing in earnest now.

"Ok…Ok," I said. "Let me catch my breath." He wouldn't move his hands: I could still feel the pressure of his fingers threatening to tickle me beyond reasoning. I guess I didn't respond quickly enough when he squeezed me one more time making me squeal with delight. "Hold on…Hold on," I panted. I pulled at his hands, trying to hold them away from my waist while I caught my breath. They didn't budge: resistance was futile. _Concentrate Jean!_

The pressure of his hands was immediately released; I felt Logan's weight lift off of me as I levitated him off the bed. It was comical watching him rise as the sheets tangled about him; a mixture of stunned surprise and shock crossing his features as he rose ever higher. He clawed at the air I and heard S_nikt _as the metal sprang from his hands, slicing through the sheets until they dropped to the ground, a puddle of ribbons. Logan was not pleased as he looked down at me. My eyes widened as I realized I had overstepped my bounds, I immediately released him: his blades retracted and he fell on top of me with a big "whoosh". The air was knocked out of me as once again he had me pinned beneath him. We looked at each other in stunned silence; then started laughing, deep chuckles.

"So this is how it's going to be, huh?" Logan asked a wry smile touching his lips as he ran his hand through my hair then coming to rest against my cheek.

"I guess so," I countered, as I looked deep into his eyes.

"This should be fun," he quipped.

"Fun? Yeah, well you're not the one who has to dodge the blades!" I pushed at him.

"And you're not the one dangling 6 feet up in the air—naked!" He protested.

I laughed at the thought. Logan pressed me deeper into the mattress, "Now tell me, what was so funny?" he said.

"Alright, I'll tell you." I said as I stroked his hair and smiled into his face, "It was just so funny to see you squatting there in front of the fireplace, naked as the day you were born with all those sparks flitting about."

"So?" he prompted.

"So, I thought you should take better care of your naughty bits."

"My _naughty bits_, eh?"

"Uh-huh."

"You were worried about my naughty bits?" he asked incredulously.

I nodded.

"So, you think they're **_bits_**, as in **_little bits_**?" he teased as he rubbed them against me.

I started to shake my head no as he continued, "You didn't think they were so **_bitty_**, a little **_bit_** ago," he smiled as I arched against him. "I didn't know you cared so much about them."

I whispered seductively in his ear, "Well, of course, we wouldn't want them damaged in any way."

"No, of course not," he whispered back as he pressed against me, his lips seeking mine. "We want everything in working order," he murmured.

"Yes, indeed," I replied as we proceeded to ensure everything _was _working properly.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Like old time horror movies they took shape, in black and white, where you know what's going to happen, but they don't show you; where it's up to your own imagination as to how horrible it was. But, this didn't leave much to the imagination. The images were darkly horrific. One right after the other, Logan running, a primal scream, adamantium claws dripping with blood, a bright tunnel, raging pain—I awoke with a start, my heart racing. I placed my hand over my chest in an effort to try to stop the pounding. My heart felt as though it would burst. I took a deep yet ragged breath, struggling to calm myself. _Oh my God! _I couldn't stop its wild rhythm. I pulled in deep gulps of air, in through the nose, out through the nose, in an effort to slow it down to a regular rate and rhythm. I started to feel dizzy from the exertion. _What the hell was that?_ I thought as I sat up and leaned back against the wall. I covered my eyes as bright shafts of sunlight peeked through the opened curtains blinding me with their brilliance. I closed my eyes, giving myself a few moments to adjust to the brightness bouncing off the inside of my eyelids in shades of red and gold. My head finally stopped spinning. I took one more deep breath and slowly opened my eyes.

As I became aware of my surroundings, I looked over beside me in the bed only to find it empty. My hand swept across the mattress, feeling the indentation where Logan had lain. I rolled over and smothered my face in his pillow as I breathed in his scent, wrapping my arms around it. I could smell the faint scent of cigar, woods and raw male that was unique to Logan. _Logan_, I thought as the remnants of my dream came flashing back to me in stunning clarity. _Sweet Jesus, this can't be true._ But I knew that it was. I hugged the pillow tighter as if to ease the pain, the memories unbearable.

"No!" he screamed, his voice echoing in my ears. A boy, half man really, standing there amidst confusion; blood everywhere, a woman crying, bones protruding from his knuckles; sharp and long, still embedded in flesh. The feel of it as the claws sluiced in and then out. Yelling, then dead silence, a father lying dead in a puddle of blood, fleeing in the middle of the night. Rose. _Rose? Who is Rose?_ I thought. _She's dead._ The memories stopped abruptly. Was this what haunted Logan; these shadowed, disjointed memories? _What had happened in that bedroom long ago? _I pondered to myself.

I don't know how long I laid there reliving the dreams, replaying them over and over again, trying to make sense out of them: but eventually my thoughts came back around to the present, to Logan; the Logan that I knew. The man whose past eluded him at every turn, but made a grand appearance in my mind's eye. It certainly was an eye opener. _What happened to him? Why doesn't he remember? Could it be he's suppressing his own memories? _Lord knows they've shown up with a sudden alacrity in my head!_ Why do his memories elude him? _Maybe the trauma he'd experienced just blocked out all the negative images. Maybe it was just the mere thought of what he was capable of doing; without conscious thought or control. _Should I tell him what I saw? What do I really know and can I share this knowledge with him? _I knew in the back of my mind Professor Xavier said he needed to discover his past on his own, it was essential for his own peace of mind and spiritual healing. This left me with quite a dilemma.

I wondered what happened to make him into the man he is today. I only have tiny pieces of this very complex and mysterious puzzle. I scratched my head as I tried to put the pieces together. I still couldn't make heads or tails of it; and until I could, there was no use saying anything to anybody about it. No, it wouldn't do any good telling Logan. I don't even know what to make of this myself; and how do I even know if what I'm seeing is real. _It's real, _I thought. I knew this just wasn't a dream. All right, what to do now: _I don't know._

Thoughts churned inside my head: what did I really know about Logan? That's a good point; _not much_, I thought. He's moody, he's strong, he's secretive, he's— different. The Logan I saw last night was nothing of the Logan I thought I knew. That Logan was compelling, witty, cajoling, and tender. He was exciting and all male. It made me afraid, yet thrilled me beyond reason. He was strange and intoxicating; and I wanted him to stay that way forever.

The aroma of fresh brewed coffee broke through my daydreams. _Mmmmm, that smells good. _I looked about the room. Clothes were strewn haphazardly all around, littering the floor. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, and looked to see what I had to choose from. Well, the thong panties were a bust—literally. I stepped onto the cold hardwood floor. I decided on Logan's button down shirt and a pair of warm socks and proceeded to put them on. _The shirt smells like Logan _I thought as I walked out into the kitchen area buttoning as I went along, my ruined thong underwear in one hand.

Logan was there at the stove with his back toward me, pouring a cup of coffee. He turned around as I approached. "Good morning," he said as he pressed the cup into my hands. He was barefoot and was only wearing his low rising jeans, the top button unbuttoned. _It should be a sin to look that good in the morning_. His hair was tousled and looked like he had been running his fingers through it. There was thick stubble at his chin and around his mouth, making him look incredibly sexy. I smiled up at him, temporarily forgetting what I wanted to say. He had a six-pack to die for, and I fought the incredible urge to rub my hands all over it. It must have shown on my face because the next thing I knew, I had looked up to find him avidly watching me; he'd just caught me checking him out. I looked away. _What's come over me?_

"Good morning," I chirped back. "Thanks for the coffee."

"You're welcome. I don't have any milk, but I have sugar."

"Sugar's fine," I said, regaining my senses. "You ruined my underwear, you know."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry about that." He grinned at me. My face flamed at the thought of the 'popping' sound it had made as he did away with the barrier. He was so bad.

"Well, now I don't have any to wear," I chided.

Logan smiled that kind of slow smile that started in his eyes and worked its way to his mouth, curving it up at the corners. "Don't look at me, I can't help you; I don't wear underwear." he quipped.

"Now what am I supposed to do?" I said as I took a sip of my coffee. It was strong: a little too strong.

He came up close behind me and put his hands about my hips as he bent to my ear, "Why not just go without, Jean," he said in that low sexy voice of his that made the hair on the back of my neck stand straight up, "it's very—liberating." He moved his hands further back to cup my buttocks as he rubbed against me. I could feel the material of his shirt move out of the way as his hands found my bare skin, caressing and kneading the rounded muscles, gliding over my hips to the front of my pelvis as he pulled me back against him.

"You are incorrigible!" I smiled, mildly admonishing him as I tried to scamper out of his reach without spilling my coffee. I set my coffee down on the small table in the kitchen and looked about. Not being able to see what I was looking for, I was forced to inquire.

"Uh…. Logan – can you show me where the bathroom is?" I asked.

He jerked a thumb toward the window, "Yeah, it's about 25 feet from the back of the cabin. You'll want to put on a pair of boots. Mine are by the door."

"You're kidding me, right?" I asked.

Logan laughed, "No."

"You don't have an indoor bathroom?" I asked incredulously.

"No."

"Don't you have a bucket or something I could use?"

"Sure, if you want to use the same bucket that has your drinking water in it. So, what's your pleasure?"

I trudged outside in Logan's boots that were several sizes too big. The wind whipped around my thighs; it was cold, but not too cold as I headed toward the outhouse. I spread my arms wide as I walked, and I could feel Logan's shirt rising up as I lifted my face to the sky. My hair flew about me as the air pinkened my cheeks; I felt young and carefree. I looked over my shoulder; there was Logan, watching me. I gave him a little sashay, and he nodded his approval as I disappeared behind the door.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

He stood there in complete and utter shock. He watched as she widened the distance between the two of them. How could she turn and walk away like that, he mused? Why would she do that? Did she know what she was doing to him? Did she realize the torture she was putting him through? Didn't she care? This couldn't be happening to him, he thought. But it was. Scott turned and looked up at the moon as a lone wolf bayed woefully into the night. She'd left him; and he'd never felt more alone in his life.

_Damn it! _He cursed. _How could this have happened?_ How could he have let this get so out of hand? He kicked at the ground, scattering pebbles into the water, disturbing the peace and tranquility there. Everything was good; everything was fine, until he fucked it up! What in the world could have possessed him to confront Jean like that? He knew what it was:he was jealous –plain and simple –and he let his jealousy get the better of him. It wrapped itself around him like wild ivy; clinging to him, enveloping him and suffocating the sense out of him until he couldn't think straight anymore. He'd let it eat at him, so much that he had worked himself into such a state he couldn't even listen to what she had to say. He'd started right in on her as soon as she walked through the door. He didn't even give her a chance to talk. First the inquisition then the accusations as the words tumbled out of his mouth, unleashed and uncensored. His mind raced back to last night.

Jean was late coming home. _She should have been here by now_, he'd thought irritably. He had the night all planned out; romantic dinner by candlelight, some champagne, a sensuous body massage, and if all went according to plans, he'd ask her to marry him and she'd say yes. But nothing worked out as he planned. She should have been home hours ago. The rest of the team came back long before. The only ones still out were Jean and Logan. He prowled about the room like a caged animal, jealousy raging hot through his veins. _Where the hell was she?_ She was out alone with Logan and he didn't like it. He didn't like it one bit. And now she was late: what was the hold up? _Logan_, he supposed. What was it about that guy? Logan got under his skin like a tick, burrowing deeper and deeper, trying to suck the life out of him. He wanted Jean; that was no secret. Logan didn't exactly try to hide his attraction to her. In fact, he flaunted it, flagrantly flirting with her at every opportunity. Scott was getting sick and tired of it. The only thing that kept him from confronting Logan was the fact that he knew Jean didn't love Logan, she loved him. She had told him so.

So, why? Why did he question her? Why didn't he believe her? He knew why. He'd felt her distancing herself from him ever since Logan came back on the scene; and he was helpless to do anything about it. Tonight was a desperate attempt to try to rekindle what they once had together. He didn't like what was happening to them. It occurred slowly; it was almost imperceptible at first. A peck on the lips, aslight kiss on the cheek, an open armed hug and I love you's without substance. She slowly but inexorably pulled herself away from him. How did it get to this point?

He imagined it all started when Jean tapped into the dark recesses of Logan's mind. She hadn't been the same since. It started off with her not being able to sleep; and then when she finally did manage to drift off, the nightmares would come. Violent and gruesome, they'd overtake her subconscious mind. She'd start thrashing about in the bed, trying to get away, running in her sleep and she'd scream his name, _Logan!_

She never remembered the dreams, but he did. The room would start to quiver, increasing in vibrato until it shook like an earthquake. He'd try to wake her; and in the beginning, he could do so easily. She'd come out of it crying and he'd hold her in his arms and cradle her just as he would a child, soothing her fears. But she never remembered the dreams. He watched the flame of one of the candles as it fought and sputtered to stay lit, only to lose its battle and die. Anger seized him as she walked through the door.

"Where were you? Why were you late?" he didn't give her time to answer. "What were you doing with Logan? You know I don't trust him!" in other words, _I don't trust you_.

She had tried to answer him, but as soon as she uttered a syllable he stopped her with another question. But, he didn't want to hear her answers. She'd already been condemned in his mind.

The scene played over and over in his mind. He'd handled it in the worse possible manner. He didn't blame her for being mad, and he left sullenly when she told him to get out. He should have handled it differently, he thought in hindsight; and he regretted every word he said. He tried to apologize, but she wouldn't hear of it; and now it was too late.

He picked up a stone and threw it intothe lake, watching it arc across the reflection of the moonlight until it plunked into the water, the splash twisting the moon about as the ripples spread out to the shore. He turned and headed back towards camp.

When he came upon them in the woods, he couldn't believe what he saw; Logan and Jean, their arms wrapped around each other, holding each other tightly. He saw that she'd been crying when she turned to face him, so regal and proud. It was all he could do not to run over and break them apart. But, that wouldn't do any good. She'd made her decision. And one thing he knew about Jean Grey was when she made a decision, it was final. The only thing he could do was let her know he'd always be there for her, that he still cared about her, and that he was willing to kill anyone who hurt her. Then he walked away.

He was still thinking of what he could have done differently when he was struck in the back of the head, and the world went dark as the ground rose up to meet him.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The mist hung low, kissing the ground as it swirled about our ankles like a cocoon, enveloping us in its cool embrace as we picked our way down the mountainside. The dew-moistened grass was slick as we started our decent, Logan in the lead. _It's beautiful here._ Funny, I didn't think so last night. But that was before, this is now. Things looked much different by the light of day. I breathed in the crisp mountain air, fresh and clean. Birds were chirping merrily as the sun continued its rise up and over the mountain. The lush green pines rose straight and tall almost touching the clear blue sky, as the sun peeked through their branches, making ink-blot patterns on the ground. I smiled to myself. I seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

We walked back to camp in companionable silence, I watched Logan as he led the way. So much had happened in the past twelve hours, I could scarcely believe it. _I must be crazy. _I sized him up from head to toe as we worked our way towards the trail. What was it about this guy that made me lose my mind? Was it his sardonic smile, the way his one eyebrow quirked up when he was amused, or the way his eyes silently spoke with depths of emotion whenever he looked at me? I didn't know. I'd never let my feelings overrule good commonsense before. He confused me like no other: made me forget who I was and what I wanted. When I am with him, I'm not Jean Grey the scientist; I am Jean Grey the woman, a woman with feelings, a woman of passion, a woman in love. I wasn't sure I liked this 'new me'. I had no control over my thoughts or emotions when I was with him; it was frightening yet exhilarating at the same time. It was easy to lose control with Logan; I had come to find out. When we're together I don't care about anything else but him; to be with him, hold him, love him.

I got goose bumps just looking at him. That man certainly knew how to fill out a pair of jeans. I watched as he walked ahead of me and smiled to myself. I remembered when I walked back into the cabin, there was Logan, standing at the stove with a frying pan in his hand, flipping flapjacks like a pro, his jeans molded to his thighs showing the rock hard muscles beneath. His skin stretched taut along his back, exposing the rippling muscles in his shoulders and biceps. I could have jumped on him right then and there. _This is so unlike me._ He turned when he heard me approach, "Hungry?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said as I grinned at him, "famished."

He got that little smirk on his face that said he didn't think I was talking about the pancakes. "I meant for food."

"I know what you meant." I smiled. I couldn't keep the excitement out of my voice or my heart from beating in a wild rhythm.

"We'll take care of that _after_ we eat."

I could feel the blush as it heated my cheeks. We did eat; quickly. We had a mission to complete and had to get on with it. Before too long, the team would search for us.

I began to feel a little apprehensive the closer we got to camp. What would I say to Scott? What would he say to me? He'd know I spent the night with Logan; and I really didn't want to face him. Not now, not ever. I didn't even realize I'd stopped walking until I heard Logan calling my name. I looked up to see him standing there, his brow furrowed with worry. "Is everything alright?"

"I don't know if I'm ready to face Scott."

Logan sauntered back to me. "You have to face him sometime, and we have to get back." He put his arms around me, pulling me towards him. I put my palms on his shoulders, resting my fingers along the fabric of his worn leather jacket, working it rhythmically as I gazed up at him.

"I know," I said as I reached up and brushed the wayward lock of hair out of his eyes. I mussed up his hair a little. "That's better. I like it this way."

Logan smiled, "You do, do you?"

"Yes, I do," I whispered.

"Well, I'll need some kind of incentive to keep it this way." The playfulness was back in his voice. I loved it. He knew how to draw my attention.

"You want me to bribe you?" I asked in feigned disbelief.

"Your words, not mine. I said incentive."

"Oh, and the difference is?" I prompted.

"A bribe infers money. And I don't want your money." He said huskily.

"Oh no?"

"No," he answered.

"Well then, what do you want?" I asked.

"This," he growled against me as his lips captured mine. I pulled away suddenly raising my hand to my head. The world spun uncontrollably, the voices clouded my brain as they overcame me. Jumbled and disjointed the screeching continued. They echoed randomly, intermingling with each other, becoming a cacophony of sounds. I pressed my hand against my temple. _Focus, Jean._

"_Has anyone seen them?"_

"_No."_

"_I saw Scott last night as he headed out into the woods, but I didn't see him come back."_

"_Where could they be? Maybe something happened."_

"They're looking for us," I said.

"Who?"

"The team. We'd better hurry back."

Most of the crew were gathered at the plane, readying it for the mission. Rogue spun around as she heard us approach. "Logan!" she shouted as she rushed to greet him, "We were worried about you." He smiled as she drew near.

I widened the distance between us as I walked towards the plane.

"Everything all right?" Storm asked as I walked by her.

"Yeah, fine." I looked back over my shoulder to see Rogue reaching up to smooth Logan's hair. The tender look that passed between them made my blood boil with sudden jealousy.

I heard her say, "Where were you guys?"

Logan's reply was muffled when they came again, the images, the flashes of memory ripping through me, paralyzing me with their intensity. In color this time, beautiful vibrant color. Logan and Rogue together – _click -_ in the middle of the night –_ click -_ holding each other –_ click -_ touching tenderly – _click_ - in his bed - _click_. _No!_

"Jean? Are you all right?" Storm asked insistently as she patted my face. I shook my head and looked about. Something was wrong, I thought as I struggled to sit up.

"What happened?" I asked bewildered.

"I don't know, one minute you were walking and the next you were passed out on the ground."

I could already feel the knot starting to swell in the back of my head. Logan rushed up, "Jean, you ok?" I touched the back of my skull gingerly, wincing at the contact.

"Yeah," I said shakily not able to look Logan in the eye. I could see the images replaying in a continuous loop over and over in my mind. I stood up jerkily and brushed the dirt from myself. "I'm fine. Really." But I wasn't fine; I was shaking all over thinking of Logan and Rogue together.

"Where's Scott?" Rogue asked.

Logan looked about him, "He's not here?"

"No, we thought maybe you all were together."

"No. We weren't," Logan said as he looked pointedly at me. I returned the look and silently urged him not to say more.

"We'll set up a search party for him."

"He's not here," I realized as my skin prickled with apprehension. "He's at Alkali Lake."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Logan took a cursory look around him, "Let's go," he said as he reached for me. "How do you know?" he whispered in my ear as we approached the plane.

"Because I **_know_**," I insisted as I made my way up the stairs. "He's there," I said solemnly. I knew it. I knew it like I knew the sky was blue and the grass was green, that water was wet and ice was cold. _I knew. He was there._ He was still a part of me. I was still connected with him in this most intimate of ways. I knew and I was filled with dread. Something was wrong - terribly wrong.

We were on our way within the hour, one engine still down, but able to continue our mission. I had to keep busy: I memorized the plan, rehearsed the scenarios, reviewed the maps and I prayed. I prayed we'd get there in time; prayed we'd find the children and the Professor unharmed; prayed Scott was all right; and prayed we could get out of there unharmed and put an end to Stryker and his kind forever.

Mystique went in first, disguising herself as Logan, and acting as a decoy. She disabled the spillway doors, which allowed the rest of us to enter safely. Once inside and locked down, she notified us, "I'm in."

"She's good," Logan acknowledged as he remembered her shape-changing talents.

"You have no idea." Magneto added with a wry smile.

I wondered what he meant by that, but didn't have time to delve any further as we launched into action. We quickly made our way from the plane to the underground plant. Mystique cleared our path from the spillway to the sealed metal doors that controlled the dam, where she located Cerebro and Professor Xavier. Magneto opened the locked metal doors and joined Mystique as she continued to search the databases for the location of the missing children. They were imprisoned in a holding cell near Cerebro. We split up and went in search.

"Alright, we'll get the children and meet you at Cerebro," Storm instructed as she assembled the teams. She took Night Crawler and headed toward the west corridor.

"Okay, I'll try to find Scott and the Professor," I agreed as I partnered with Mystique and Magneto.

"Will you be all right without us?" Storm asked as she eyed Magneto suspiciously.

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

"Where's Logan?"

"He's gone," I said hollowly.

I didn't trust Magneto and Mystique, no matter how accommodating they seemed. I knew they had their own agenda, I just didn't know exactly what they were planning. It seemed, for the moment anyway, that they were on our side; but I knew how quickly the tide could change and knew I needed to stay alert and on guard for when that happened. It wasn't a matter of 'if,' just a matter of when.

We walked hurriedly down the east corridor; it was dark and cold underground. The air was heavy, as if the snow itself would lullme to sleep and suffocateme in its steely embrace. We fervently searched for some sign of Scott and the Professor when I felt him, but it wasn't him. _Scott! _He was different, he was changed, I sensed a determination for revenge in him and I felt this strange sensation - the back of my neck burned. He was evil incarnate. My skin began to crawl as I felt him coming closer to us. He had one purpose in mind, and that was to seek and destroy. _He's here!_ The blast came and I mentally 'pushed' Magneto and Mystique out of the way, propelling them forward onto their hands and knees as the wall collapsed behind them. The air was thick with dust and rubble.

"Go! I'll take care of him!" I yelled. They had to find Cerebro!

I ran around the corner ready for battle, my hand blocking his blasts. He pummeled against my will with hard continuous blasts of power that threatened to overtake me. _Scott, what did they do to you? _I forced him back, rocketing him into the air until he slammed into the wall with a loud 'Uumph.' He dropped like a stone over the railing. I ran over to the ledge, and looked down screaming, "Scott!"

He wasn't there. I looked about frantically, trying to spot him, but he was gone. I cautiously made my way along the guardrail until I came to the bowels of the spillway, trying to see into the dark corners of the dimly lit room. _He's watching me. I can feel it._ The hair on the back of my neck rose as the tingling sensation overcame me, threatening to smother me..._Oh my God!_ I turned and raised my hand in an attempt to ward off the blasts. Red angry bursts of energy pounded against me, zapping my strength.

"Scott, don't do this." I pleaded.

Stronger it came, pushing me back, as I tried to hold fast. _Scott, stop! _My mind screamed to him, _Please, don't do this!_ I tried to reason with him as he let me in his mind…_Scott! What are you doing?_

"_I could kill you."_

_Scott, don't._

"_You betrayed me."_

_I'm sorry._

"No you're not," he said bitterly as he increased his optic blast to maximum power.

I felt his anger, his hurt and confusion. He wanted to punish me for betraying him. He wanted to make an example out of me. He didn't want to hurt me, not really, but for some reason he felt somehow he needed to. I felt the conflicting emotions within him; but he couldn't stop himself. _Scott, please, stop! _I tried one more time. The force increased as I struggled for control. I couldn't hold on much longer. _I'm going to die._ The realization hit me at once. He was going to kill me and I couldn't stop him.

"Scott, please!" I begged as weakness overcame me…I had lost this battle. _I'll do anything you want! _My mind screamed to him.

The blast flickered momentarily and I seized control sending Scott catapulting into the wall, cracking the foundation of the plant, creating leaks and tears in its metal and concrete armor. I ricocheted back, slamming against the heavy machinery and into oblivion from the sheer force of the energy I released.

_I hear water dripping, _I thought as I struggled to consciousness. I heard the steady click of footsteps fast approaching. _Scott_! I jerked myself fully awake, recoiling from him as he knelt beside me. He placed a steady hand on my shoulder. Hysteria threatened to overwhelm me; I felt the panic rise as it surged through my body. I had to get away!

"No, no, no…it's ok. It's ok, it's me," he assured me as he tried to calm my fears.

"Scott?" I said through the tears. _Could it really be him?_

"I'm so sorry." _It was him!_

"I thought I'd lost you," I cried as I hugged him tightly.

"I'm so sorry, I could see you, but I couldn't stop myself. I tried. I'm sorry – I love you so much."

"It's okay." Relief washed over me as I drew in a shaky breath and wiped at my tears. "It wasn't you." I tried to sit up, "Ahhh, my leg."

"Okay, easy. Easy," he said as he moved his hands over me, checking for injuries. He drew me up into his arms, placing his right arm around me as I stepped gingerly onto my left foot. Shooting pain coursed through me and I couldn't help the cry that escaped me.

"Are you all right, Jean?"

"I'll be fine. I think it's just sprained." I tested the measured pressure on my foot. With Scott's support it held. "I just need to hold on to you. We need to hurry." I said as we hobbled down the wide tunnel in search of Cerebro. He glanced at me when I paused.

"Scott…" I said with a dull awareness, "something's wrong."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The bubbling noises inexplicably drew him into the bowels of the laboratory like a siren called out to a sailor, its song hypnotic and irresistible to his ears. There was something familiar about this room; something he should remember; something just beyond his grasp. Wolverine looked about him, noting every detail. Silhouettes of a musculo-skeletal nature strategically adorned the lighted wall. X-rays - all of them, but for what purpose? What diabolical intention did they serve? The air was dank and stale from abandonment. The room was overshadowed by the human-sized aquarium placed in the center of the room, the water eerily still. A silver mercury-like substance bubbled in a connecting boiler.

He stared at the liquid, so familiar yet elusive, willing his mind to remember. It was no use; he sighed with frustration. He looked back to the tank, and placed his hands along the rim, trying to remember when the memories assailed him. They came rapidly in painful alacrity – his body submerged in water, as he struggled to free himself – _He couldn't do it, he couldn't go through with it! – _the needle plunging under the surface of his skin – "_No! I've changed my mind!"_ – the surge of adamantium as it flowed inside his frame, adhering itself to his bones. It was hot and heavy as it poured through him, until it cooled then hardened like steel. His screams were primal as the metal sprang forth from his hands, ripping the skin. He clawed his way out of the tank, slashing at everyone in his path, leaving his marks embedded in the stone frame of the tank. Covered in blood, his only thought to get away, he ran out through the tunnel – but by then it was too late.

"The tricky thing about adamantium is…" Stryker started in a honeyed tone, pulling Wolverine out of his reverie, "that if you ever manage to process its raw, liquid form, you gotta keep it that way."

Wolverine stared at Stryker as he continued in a slow measured voice, "You gotta keep it hot. Because once the metal cools, it's indestructible...but you already know that." He paused to look at his creation. With a wry smile of satisfaction he said, "I used to think you were one of a kind, Wolverine." He made his way up the stairs and added, "I was wrong."

He had done this to him, this Stryker. He made him into the animal he was today. _Why?_ Fury filled him as he pursued his maker, ready to give him due, only to be blocked by _her._ She spun about and slammed her arm into his face, momentarily stunning him. She followed with a roundhouse kick that sent him flying backwards toward the aquarium. He landed on his back with a flat thud. Angrily he rose, _So, she wants to play rough huh? Snickt_!He extended his adamantium claws ready to do battle.

She waited for him, a look of triumph in her dark eyes as he glanced over her slim frame dismissing her as an unworthy opponent - until she extended her own claws. Ten rapier thin blades protracted from her fingertips.

"Holy shit," Wolverine muttered under his breath. He hadn't expected that. Nor had he expected the fight that ensued.

She was strong, very strong and fast, he thought as the blades sliced at his face. He fought back ferociously, giving her no quarter. She moved eloquently, like a ballerina, all beauty and grace as she attacked with a vengeance and strength that left him gasping for breath.

Enough of this, he thought as he plunged his left fist and then his right into her stomach. His claws embedded to the hilt, he glanced at her. She looked at him with a look of surprise and uncertainty. Her eyes glazed white as she renewed her resolve, her hands clasped his wrists, and the metal nails clinked as they wrapped about his forearms. Using this as leverage, she placed her right foot on his knee and proceeded to climb up his chest and planted her feet wide. With a look of satisfied pleasure she arched back and pulled the blades out in one fluid movement. Wolverine could not believe his eyes; she healed as he, with incredible speed.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"No!" I screamed as I felt the blades piercing my flesh…ten of them, slicing through me, in and out, repeatedly, rapidly; entering through my back, exiting through my chest. I wanted to get away, but I couldn't move; I was trapped. I was hurt. I was angry. I was…Logan! _This can't be happening!_ But I knew that it was as the flashes assailed my senses. I coughed, tasting the blood that bubbled in his mouth threatening to choke him as _she_ sliced his skin into shreds. The pungent smell of musty water weighed heavy in the air. I couldn't breathe. Dizziness threatened to overwhelm me.

I grabbed hold of Scott in stunned disbelief as my knees buckled beneath me. I was blinded but for the horrific visions dancing before me.

"Jean," he said anxiously as he clasped me to him, "What is it?" Worry etched his face like deep grooves in fine granite as I gasped for breath. "What's wrong?"

"It's Logan," was all I could manage to choke out. I could feel him, I could see him. He was fighting for his life and he was dying. I felt the blood draining out of him as the blades ripped through him. He couldn't move, _she_ held him tightly and plunged her talons deep into his back, rendering him helpless. He couldn't get up. _Heal yourself!_ My mind screamed at him, _Damn it Logan! Heal yourself!_ He had to do something!_ Listen to me,_ I pleaded with him.

Helplessly I watched as the visions flashed before me. How could this be happening? How could _she_ have the upper hand?

Logan towered over her diminutive frame. Where he was all brawn and muscle, she was lean and lithe, yet strong; so very strong. Her jet black hair, neatly pinned behind her spoke volumes of her discipline. It was very determined, very calculated, very driven.

She was following orders, Stryker's orders, and she'd fight to the death to carry them out. They were almost militaristic in their simplicity, yet not quite, more mercenary to be exact. Her mission: to kill Logan, and there was nothing I could do to stop her.

Her looks were deceptive. Though small, she was every bit as strong as Logan. He tried to overpower her, but she wouldn't back down. She gave as good as she got. She was fast, her reflexes like that of a cheetah on the hunt. She was patient as she toyed with him for she refused to give up. _Oh God, no!_

With renewed determination, she drove the claws deep – ripping through his flesh – embedding into his muscles – paralyzing him as she drove deeper still. A look of satisfaction claimed her as she realized _she_ was winning. Her eyes glittered with bloodlust as she went in for the kill.

_Logan! Stop her!_

"_I'm trying!" _

I felt a surge of energy flow through him as his anger boiled within, revitalizing him with fresh purpose. He growled with renewed vengeance and slashed through the metal chains that suspended his prison, sending him crashing on top of her, plunging her into the water. She released her hold.

Logan choked and sputtered as he struggled for air,resting a moment in agonized silence, his cheek pressed against the cool metal. He received a momentary respite before it came once more.

She rose from the water like a creature from the sea to attack again, the blades piercing his body armor as if it were nothing. He struggled for control as she plunged deep while he reached toward the end of the tank. She stabbed again, ripping through his flesh and organs. He screamed out in pain. _She would not win! _

Determination seized him and he grabbed the infuser, piercing it into her flesh. She raised shocked eyes to him as she reached for her abdomen, then he fired. Hot, liquid adamantium shot through her torso and into her limbs, filling her. The blank eyes of death held Wolverine's as silver tears formed and hardened on her face. He watched as she sank to the bottom of the tank with a heavy metallic 'clunk.'

The walls shook as I held onto Scott, unshed tears blurring my vision. Shakily I took a deep breath, relief flooding me. "He's ok," I said, the realization hitting me, "He's ok."

"Are you sure?" Scott asked.

"Yeah," I panted. "I'm sure." I became aware of the sound of rushing water. "We better hurry and find Cerebro." We were running out of time. Scott helped me to my feet and we hobbled down the tunnel.

We had almost reached the professor when I stopped dead in my tracks. I could hear them. I pressed my hand to my temple as they entered my mind. There were thousands of them, from everywhere, all over the planet. Mutants. Their lighted energies danced about in the dark, reflecting the lives they lived and loved.

Clearer this time I heard the voices, echoing in the inner recesses of my mind as they mixed and melded until they became one. Fear rushed through me as I heard a child's voice say, _"Find all the mutants. Find them. Find them all," _she coaxed.

"_Each one – all of them," _and he listened to her, he trusted her.

"_Good,"_ she beamed._ "Kill them. Kill them all."_

He was going to kill them, all of them – all of the mutants – all of us. _It's the Professor._ We had to stop him.

"Cerebro . . ." I exclaimed, "We're too late," as the ear-splitting screeching brought us to our knees. I heard the screams of men, women and children – their mutant abilities being crushed by one of their own. Scenes of morphing, mutations, suffering and crying cluttered my mind. _Dear God! _

"Eric hurry!" I heard Mystique beg to Magneto.

The humming stopped abruptly, giving us a mild reprieve as we struggled to get up and continue on. Then a different type of hum, low, deep and steady, permeated the walls. The floor vibrated as it increased in intensity, eerily and hauntingly becoming louder as it reverberated off the cement walls. The dam alarms started blaring as the foundation gave way to the ever increasing rush of water threatening to overflow us all.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

She came from behind, morphing into Stryker as she approached the wheelchair. Jason sat stone-faced feeding the Professor his instructions with his mind. It was simple really, the total domination he held over him. All Jason had to do was concentrate and do as he was told. Follow the orders and all would be well. _Father will be pleased_.

She bent low over his shoulder, "There's been a change of plan," Mystique whispered to Jason. He listened to her, and recognizing his father's voice, he did as he was told.

"_Find all the humans. Every one. Find them."_ The voice echoed in my mind It was the child again in her singsong voice, lilting and persuasive, convincing him-convincing the Professor._ "Find them. Find them all," _she urged. He wanted to please her. He wanted to help her. Find them he would, all of them, every one of them, for her. He would do it for her. His mind reached out far and wide, racing across the boundaries of space and time searching, searching for them, all of them. Finding them, one by one, marking their locations, tapping into their subconscious minds, making ready, until he found them, found them all.

Scott and I rushed to Cerebro. We had to hurry; there wasn't much time. Stryker had to be stopped before it was too late. Storm and Nightcrawler waited helplessly with the children they rescued outside the heavy metal door as we approached. Cerebro was locked from within and they couldn't get inside.

Storm turned as we came near. "Jean, are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I was still hobbling, but able to put more weight on my foot. The pain had diminished to some extent, and all that remained was a dull aching throb. Probably sprained it, judging by how tight my boot had become. My ankle felt hot and swollen and it rubbed against the leather boot as I stood there, the blood racing to my toes. The throbbing worsened.

Storm looked toward the heavy door, "What's happening?"

_Focus, Jean._ I closed my eyes and reached out with my mind. "The Professor's still in there…with another mutant." But it wasn't as it appeared. Something strange was going on. It was like… "He's trapped in some kind of illusion." I couldn't make it out at first. What was true, and what was not. Then the realization hit me all at once. The helplessness of an innocent child, the sing-song voice… it was all an illusion to convince the Professor to help them. Only it wasn't an innocent child, it was a sinister plot designed by Stryker and implemented by his son to destroy the mutants. But it wasn't working out as planned; they'd been duped. Jason was controlling the Professor, but who was controlling Jason? Then suddenly, I knew. "Magneto's reversed Cerebro. It's not targeting mutants anymore."

"Who is it targeting?" Storm wanted to know.

"Everyone else."

I could see them in my mind's eye, but the images were coming too fast; I couldn't lock on any one as they sped by. But I knew they were suffering. I could hear them screaming out in pain. The humans, all of them; young and old, they were dying. I knew what they were feeling. I had felt it myself moments before, when Cerebro was targeting mutants. Excruciating pain, sharp and piercing; it started from within and radiated outward, paralyzing the body with its intensity. They were unable to help themselves, crippled as they were. We had to do something. We had to save them.

Scott pulled my arm from around his shoulders setting me away from him. I stumbled for balance against the wall.

"Everyone stand back." He told us as he prepared to fire upon the door. He braced his legs and raised his hand to his visor adjusting the settings when it dawned on me what he was going to do.

"Scott, no." I said, restraining him. I couldn't let him do it. With a blast like that, it would disrupt Cerebro and the consequences might be fatal.

"His mind is connected to Cerebro." I explained, "Opening the door could kill him and everyone his mind is linked to."

"Wait." Storm interrupted as she turned toward Nightcrawler. She smiled at him. He sheepishly looked down, embarrassed by her attention. "Kurt," she said softly, pausing a moment before continuing. "I need you to take me inside."

"Storm, who is this guy?" Scott demanded to know. Then he turned to face Kurt, "Who are you?" he asked impatiently.

Kurt answered with great aplomb, his white teeth glistening against his darkly tattooed face, "My name is Kurt Wagner – but in the Munich circus…"

He was cut short as Storm covered his mouth with her hand in an effort to stop the steady flow of words. Time was of the essence. "He's a teleporter," she explained.

Kurt looked at Storm pensively and in halting English said, "I told you, if I can't see where I'm going–"

"I have faith in you." Storm interceded calmly as she took hold of his hands.

It was the only way. We couldn't risk the humans by using forceful methods. With Kurt as a teleporter, they could get into the chamber without damaging Cerebro and hurting the Professor. It was worth a try. I needed to warn them before they went inside. They needed to beware, "Don't believe anything you see in there."

Storm nodded, "I won't."

With a measured glance toward the door, Kurt pulled Storm into his arms while he began his litany of the Lord's Prayer and teleported them both into Cerebro.

"_What are you doing?"_ She asked Storm. I could hear the panic in the child's voice. The weather was changing abruptly in the metal chamber. She watched in horror as Storm's eyes clouded white and the wind picked up, circling the sphere, creating funnels of blustering air all about her. I could feel the coldness as it crept through her tiny frame. She started to shiver, yet renewed her resolve, telling him; _Concentrate. Concentrate harder. Find all the humans, kill them. Every single one. _She said again in her sing-song voice. She tried to keep her voice calm. _Focus. Focus. _But she couldn't focus. She was cold-so cold, and she couldn't concentrate. Her lilting voice, faltering, cracking. Her teeth were chattering.

"_Stop it!"_ she yelled at Storm, her control slipping, terror threatening to overwhelm her. Jason was emerging and the little girl disappearing as the temperature dropped and his body started to freeze. His lips turned blue and were so cold they were burning, his tongue numbed from exposure. Newly formed frost crystallized, powdering his face, making it seem Kabuki-like in nature. His body shook in his thin cotton hospital gown as his body temperature continued to drop, his muscles clenching involuntarily, cramping with pain. He couldn't sustain the illusion. His power was diminishing. _Father's going to be so angry with me._ Jason had failed. He couldn't keep up the ruse. The little girl started to scream, breaking his concentration, piercing through the apparition, until it vanished into thin air, allowing the Professor to break free of the mental hold Jason held over him.

Sounds of rushing water reached my consciousness, distracting me from the battle that ensued within Cerebro. The hair on the back of my neck rose in apprehension. A more imminent danger threatened us. Walls began to buckle under the pressure, the foundation cracked and crumbled around us, frightening the children and bringing me out of my stupor. We couldn't stay here, but we couldn't leave without the Professor.

"Logan." I whispered to myself. "Logan, where are you?" It was as though just thinking of him connected me to him. Suddenly I could feel him, running and breathless. I felt his anger, his frustration, his feeling of inevitable doom. His mind screamed at me, "_Get out! NOW!_" He was looking for us. I could feel his urgency as he raced through the tunnels.

"We've got to go!" I yelled just as Storm materialized before my eyes. A poof of black twirling smoke was the only remnant proving Nightcrawler was ever there when he disappeared again into Cerebro. A moment later he was back in another swirl of smoke with Professor Xavier in his grasp. The Professor, his paralyzed legs unable to help him, leaned heavily against Kurt. Storm rushed to his aide, draping his arm about her shoulders as they supported him. The dead weight heavy between them, they headed down the spillway.

We hurried through the tunnels as the horns blared their warning, and the floors shifted beneath us. The rushing water came ever closer, hammering through the passageways, pounding against the walls, echoing louder as it pressed forward making its way toward us. We could see the entrance ahead of us; sweet relief rushed through my veins. We were going to make it.

We were almost to the opening when Wolverine came purposefully around the corner. He saw us running to the nearest exit when _snikt_, his claws extended, he jammed the metal into the control panel and sealed the metal door - effectively blocking our escape. I turned to look at him, not believing my eyes; he'd just sealed us in.

His eyes captured mine, "You don't want to go that way. Trust me." And I did. I could hear the water as it came crashing against the closed door. Shafts of high pressured water squeezed out between the cracks, promising to overflow as the force increased. We would have been killed had we gone through there. Logan had saved us. We backed away looking for an alternate exit.

"Come on," he said, as he turned and headed in another direction. "There's another way out of here." We followed him blindly, trusting him to get us out of there before it was too late. His instincts hadn't failed us yet. The children stayed together, arm in arm so they wouldn't get separated.

Logan led us to a nearby opening on the ground level. We stepped out into the bitter cold and headed for the helicopter. The sun was blinding as we shielded our eyes, letting them adjust to the abrupt change in lighting. We stumbled in the deep snow until we came to the clearing where the helicopter was waiting. Only it wasn't waiting. It was gone.

_Where is it!_ My mind screamed.

"The helicopter was right here!" Logan shouted above the wind. _Magneto_, I thought as I looked at Logan. _How are we going to get out of here?_

I heard a rumbling noise in the distance drawing nearer. Turning toward the sound I saw the X-jet, hovering precariously, wobbling its way to us. Rogue was at the helm fighting for control. Heavily she careened the plane to a hard landing. She was shaken and petrified, but she'd done it. She breathed a shaky sigh of relief, her hands still gripping the controls as if afraid to let go.

We rushed onto the plane, settling everyone into their seats as we prepared for take-off. Storm performed the system checks as I accounted for everyone on the plane. Logan and one of the children were missing. I waited pensively at the head of the stairs until I saw the unmistakable shadow of Logan cast itself across the wall as he entered the plane. Relief flooded me as he handed the boy to Bobby. He looked about him. His eyes searched and locked with mine as he made his way toward me. He practically sauntered over. He looked so good. I just had to touch him. I brushed his arm and asked anxiously, "You okay?" I looked him over searching for any sign of injury, not expecting to find any, but worried nonetheless.

A few tears in the suit, but other than that he looked fine. I touched the shredded material, pressing a fingertip through one of the holes to touch the flesh beneath. I heard his quick intake of breath as I probed deeper. _Oh yes, he's fine._ I looked up, my gaze settling on his lips before it continued the upward climb where his green eyes met and held mine.

"I am now," he said meaningfully stepping back. A small smile crept to his lips as he presented his backside and headed for his seat, his broad shoulders wide in the tiny aisle. The black leather molded to every blessed inch of him. I turned away, grinning to myself.

The engines whirred into motion as I double-checked the children. They were all secured and anxious to go. The haunting groan of the engines failing as the thrusters were put into action made us cringe with despair. The engines revved like a car stuck in neutral. We were going nowhere.

"What's wrong?" Logan asked looking at Scott.

"Vertical thrusters are off-line."

"So fix 'em!" he barked.

"I'm trying! I'm trying to override. It's not responding." Scott said as he attempted to reignite the ignition switches. He snorted with frustration when the control panel went black.

"Oh no," Storm cried. "We've lost the power."

Their voices in the doomed aircraft faded away as I became aware of the happenings outside. The dam walls were failing. I flinched as I felt them burst forth and crumble to the ground, pounding as they were carried away like rubble in a tide of churning water. The momentum continued to build on its downhill slope, and it was heading our way. We had to get out of there. I had to do something. I couldn't let them all die.

Quietly I slipped away unnoticed, until it was too late. By the time they discovered I was no longer inside I was in control of the plane. I closed the hatch and activated the control panels. The engines fired up, and the thrusters jumped into motion.

They tried to stop me, but I wouldn't let them. I effectively blocked their attempts, holding them captive within. Darkness descended behind me as a massive wall of water climbed ever higher, blocking the light from the sky. I turned to face the torrent as it came on strong, crashing through the trees, plowing into ground, uprooting everything in its path as it headed straight for us. I raised my hand to ward off the violent flow of water, clearing a path for the jet, just like in biblical times when Moses parted the sea; I had separated the water from the plane. It pounded all around me, loud in my ears as I focused all of my energy. I stood there, in the middle of it all, this great ocean of water, holding it back as it roared, pushing it away from the plane. Reaching out I raised my hand and began to lift the jet off of the ground while holding the wall of water back with the other.

I paused a moment, I wanted them to understand. "_I know what I'm doing." _I told them.They didn't understand. _"This is the only way._ _Goodbye." _

They didn't want me to do it. They wanted me to come with them. I heard Logan screaming, "No…no…No!" His primal cry tore me apart. My heart ached for what would never be. Regret washed over me, but it was too late now to wish I had done something differently. I didn't have a choice. Tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to overflow as they rose. I blinked them away and swallowed hard, trying to regain control of my emotions. _I'm sorry, Logan. _I blocked out his voice. There was no other way. I had to stay strong. I took a deep breath and focused all of my energy on getting them out of there.

Wisps of energy flew from my fingertips, illuminating the sky as they branched out. They twisted eerily, gathering about the jet, wrapping themselves around it like a protective cocoon: keeping it safe and out of harm's way. Once secured, I levitated the plane off the ground, lifting it up and away from the giant wall of water. One final push sent it soaring into the air.

I closed my eyes and let the water come crashing over me. They were safe – _he _was safe. _Logan._


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"No…no…No!" Logan screamed. Why was she doing this? _No! Oh, Jesus Christ…Jean!_ _Don't do this! _His mind begged her. He unbuckled his harness and ran to the exit, his mind racing. He had to stop her. _Jean!_ She wouldn't listen to him. She thought she was being noble. It was just like her to put everyone else's needs before her own. She was so goddamned determined to save the fucking world, she didn't give a second thought to him and their future so bent she was with purpose. He tried to open the hatch. The veins bulged in his head and neck as he strained with the door; he had to get to her, but it wouldn't budge. Cold sweat speckled his forehead and dripped down his nose from exertion as he tried again. _Damn it! _This could not be happening to him! He couldn't lose her. Not now. Not when they had just found each other.

Not again. _Not again? _How did he know that? He didn't know how he knew; but instinctively he knew it was true. It had happened before, long before. The tattered memories started flashing before his eyes…an innocent smile, lilting laughter, freckles that sprinkled across the bridge of a nose and cheeks like sweet brown sugar, long wheat colored hair so shiny you could almost see yourself in it, and full rosy lips that curled up into a teasing smile…lips that suddenly lost their warmth as the blood drained from them: Rose. _Rose!_ He hadn't been able to help her either, he suddenly remembered. Funny how the subconscious mind chose inopportune times to dredge up random tidbits of his past. He felt like someone had just given him the one-two punch. It was a low blow. Goddamn it! He wouldn't let it happen again!

His mind was racing with possibilities, adding and discounting them just as quickly as they came to him. It was too late for many of the options. _Damn it! _Had he known she was even thinking of something so dangerous he would have stopped her somehow- but he hadn't known. None of them had, until it was too late. He balled his fist in frustration slamming it into the wall with all his strength. The pain didn't faze him.

Time seemed to stand still in that moment, motionless and stagnant as a lily pond without the benefit of a summer breeze. Logan felt like the lone mosquito on that pond; with no one to take a bite out of, he was impotent with fury.

"There's nothing we can do! She won't let us!" Scott hollered with frustration.

"No!" Logan yelled in denial, grabbing Scott by the arms and shaking him hard. "It's not going to end like this!" His nostrils flared as his insides twisted into knots. He felt it, the empty, hollowed-out sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't feel her anymore…Jean was gone. He'd lost her.

He shook his head in denial. It was not going to end like this. He would not let it end like this. This wasn't over, not yet. He whirled around and bellowed at Nightcrawler, "You! Get her, now!"

"I told you before, she won't let me…" Kurt said remorsefully, his arms wide.

"She can't stop you now!" Logan argued with him, the exasperation heavy in his voice.

Dawning registered on his intricately tattooed face. In a twirling flash of smoke Kurt was gone, instantly reappearing with an unconscious Jean held tightly in his arms. They were soaking wet. Rivulets of water dripped down their faces, creating tiny rivers heading south to pool at their feet. Jean's head was bent backward as she lay limp, in his arms. Her thick hair plastered around her face, clinging to her like seaweed; her lips parted innocently, as if in sleep, making her look very young and vulnerable: angelic.

_No. No angels. She can't be dead._ Logan thought. She just can't be.

Logan quickly gathered Jean in his arms. He looked down, studying her face, looking for signs of life. "No!" He cried. "No!" She wasn't breathing. He hurriedly placed her on the deck. One quick look at her pale face and the tightening leather constricting her body and his decision was made, snikt, the blade unsheathed and he sliced her uniform from neck to abdomen, and immediately started chest compressions. "I will not give up on you Jean. Do you hear me? Do you?" he yelled at her. "Goddamn it Jean…don't you give up." He willed her to live as he got to work: alternately placing his lips on hers, breathing precious air into her oxygen depleted lungs and applying timed chest compressions in an effort to resuscitate her.

_Jesus, baby…don't leave me._ He thought as he continued working on her. He wouldn't let her die, damn it.

His life had changed immeasurably in such a short period of time, he thought as he continued counting – he looked down at her - one one-thousand, her face looked waxen, two-one-thousand, she was so cold, three-one-thousand, her lips were blue, four-one-thousand, her body lifeless, five-one-thousand, he pressed his mouth to hers and breathed for her once, then twice. His love, his life. Again. He would not give up.

Automatically he continued the chest compressions, sweating in his heavy leather while his damp hair dripped salty tears into his eyes, stinging them. His lips pressed tight against his teeth as he worked over her, breathing heavily, yet never faltering in his task. No signs of life yet. _Dear God._ He continued.

In less than 24 hours his life had turned upside down. He looked down at Jean's chest, his large hands one on top of the other, pressed against her sternum, jerking up and down in a savage rhythm as he tried to save her. Was it truly only 12 hours ago he was lying in bed with her suckling those soft white globes? Now he was giving her chest compressions, trying to force life back into her. No signs of life yet. He continued.

"C'mon, Jean." He pleaded with her as he leaned over her yet again, taking a deep breath, pressing his lips to hers; breathing for her, once, twice. Her lips were so cold. No signs of life. _Please, baby. _He continued.

"She's gone." Scott cried, already succumbing to his grief. He acted like she was already dead. _How could he say that?_ Logan thought angrily to himself as he kept on with the CPR, his muscles straining against his uniform. _How could he give up so easily?_ She wasn't gone, not yet. Not if he could help it. He checked her pulse. No signs of life. He continued.

How long he knelt over her, rhythmically working her chest, he didn't know. He didn't care as long as she came back to him, but time was running out. That much he knew. He renewed his efforts.

"One-one-thousand," he counted aloud as anger poured through him, "Two-one-thousand," he continued as tears clouded his eyes, "Three-one-thousand," he said forcefully as he started to shake, "Four-one-thousand," his heart broke as he looked into Jean's lifeless face.

"Logan," the Professor said quietly. "It's over."

Deep from within the denial started low until it roared, "Noooooooooo!" He couldn't go through it again. He wouldn't do it. He would not be left behind…not again. "Jean…!" he screamed as he balled his fists into his chest. The blades sprang forth, snikt as they rammed deep within him. _Jean… wait._


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

They say your life flashes before your eyes when you're dying. If that's so- then the most important person in my life was Logan – because all the pictures that flashed before me were of him.

Not that I didn't have a life before this enigma of a man returned from his quest to unlock the secrets of his past, but Logan **became** my life when he strolled back into the foyer at Professor Xavier's, knowing less about his past than he did before his trek to the frozen North. He'd found nothing on his journey and had come back to the school, disappointed and frustrated, looking for answers only his tortured mind could supply but would not give up. It was a battle he fought within himself. A battle I felt compelled to help him win.

He, like the pied piper, lured the seemingly reluctant: hauntingly, hypnotically. Logan wove his spell on me against my will, until his presence took over my every waking thought. I hadn't expected to see him there in the mansion as I started down the stairs. I paused, gripping the banister tightly, momentarily frozen into place – not believing my eyes. _Logan_. He'd been gone so long, and yet there he was, as if he'd never been gone, standing there so handsome in his brown leather, looking up at me, a smile teasing his lips upward and seductive interest in his eyes that made my heart race wildly. He wasn't giving up on me and I didn't know what to do. I made my choice to be with Scott crystal clear to Logan – but that didn't stop him from wanting me. The sight of him made my knees weak, my palms moist and my mouth dry. I found it nearly impossible to swallow the lump in my throat that bore a striking resemblance to my pounding heart. I forced myself to move and started down the stairs as I drank in the sight of him. He was tall, lean yet muscular. He exuded sexual magnetism from head to toe, and he knew it. He also knew he was getting to me, wearing me down, chipping away at my resistance, making me question myself and my loyalties.

What was it about him that drew me to him like a moth to a flame running headlong into danger, willing to risk everything to be near him? There was something there; so tangible I could almost taste it. It was more than a sexual attraction I was aware of as I faced death. We were soul mates. _He completes me._ These thoughts and images ricocheted off the corners of my mind instantaneously as time as I knew it ceased to exist. They came fast and hard intimately touching the recesses of my mind.

_-Click- _Logan at the mansion, so cocky and sure -_Click- _Logan lying on a table unconscious in my lab, helpless and nude. -_Click- _Logan in command, all virile and sure -_Click- _Logan swallowing hard, indecision on his face -_Click-_ Logan teasing me with his mouth _-Click- _Logan as he walked back to our bed, splendidly naked -_Click-_ Logan cradling me in his arms after making love…like he would never let me go._ -Click-_

These were the visions that shifted through my mind at an alarming speed. The feelings associated with them came alive in my body as I watched my life go by. Then it was over.

Euphoria settled over me as I felt myself rising upward and away. I felt an all-encompassing sensation of electrified numbness throughout my body. It reminded me of the time I was 12 and spent the night at Natalie Micheal's house. God I hadn't thought of her in years. She was my childhood friend; we went to the same school. She had a pajama party and we were sleeping in her room. I slept in her sister's twin bed by the far wall next to the window and Natalie slept in the matching bed beside the door. Her little sister, Jeanie, lay on the floor in an old sleeping bag that smelled like my grandmother's closet; the pungent smell of mothballs wafted through the air as she slept fitfully between us. Every time she turned, the smell rose in the air, teasing our senses.

The night was quiet and calm except for the sounds of crickets chirping that floated into the room like driftwood ebbing on the tide. It was a soothing sound, a peaceful sound. I remember how the moonlight filtered through the window casting a cool glow about the room. The sheer curtains looked spookily transparent as the occasional wisps of wind blew them softly. I watched the ghostly panels of white until I finally drifted off to sleep. I thought I was dreaming when I felt myself slip out of my body like a boat slips into the water – all smooth and sleek and buoyant. It was a strange feeling. I was awake and aware, yet I was asleep and couldn't move. It is difficult to describe. I remember floating up and away from my body, feeling light and free. I looked at my fingers, which gave off a soft radiance. I was an angel. I looked all about me in amazement. A halo of gold glowed about me as I saw myself lying there in the little bed, twisted about the sheets in slumber; I wondered how I could be hovering in the air yet still be lying in the bed. I dismissed the thought quickly as I floated through the window into the warm night air. I felt free and unafraid as I ventured further, exploring my surroundings, enjoying the new sensations until a gentle tug stopped me from continuing my journey. I was tethered to a long cord, my body the anchor. I could go no further. Disappointment overwhelmed me as I returned to my body and slipped back into slumber.

This time, however, it was different. This time there was no cord keeping me anchored.

I looked at the scene displayed below me as I once again became aware of the drama taking place in the here and now. I looked down in fascinated detachment – an audience of one. There was Logan on his knees, screaming at me while tears clouded his eyes as he frantically pressed hard against my chest. He was yelling at me…but I couldn't hear him. He looked so determined. I looked lifeless. I watched the scenario unfold with a disconnected feeling as if this wasn't really happening to me. I felt somewhat removed as though I were part of an audience watching a movie, rooting for the hero to win, yet knowing he would not. I was captivated by the sight.

Logan worked feverishly over my lifeless body. Tears coursed down his chiseled features unashamedly; the depth of his love displayed before me.

Scott stood over Logan and my stilled likeness, frozen in horror, a look of indescribable loss on his face. Even without benefit of looking into his eyes I could see his pain, his regret; regret that he gave up on me too easily, regret that he could not reach out to me, regret that he no longer had the right to openly mourn my passing. That right was now Logan's alone.

Logan rhythmically pumped on my chest, futilely attempting to force the life-blood through my stilled heart. His efforts broke through my sense of detachment and I wanted to comfort him, to hold him once more in my arms and tell him it would be okay. I would never get that chance. Sadness like I had never experienced washed over me in great waves as I realized I would never again feel those strong arms around me. Never again would I feel those warm lips on mine. Never again would I know the exquisite joy of becoming one with him, my life, my love. I tried to cry out to him, to console him, to reach down and touch Logan one last time when I started floating upward. _No! _my mind screamed. The agony of loss slowly slipped away, as I continued to rise. At first I felt nothing, no sorrow, no pain, no happiness…nothing. As I spiraled upward the emotional void was filled with a keen sense of wonder and peace, and finally joy.

Brightness reached over my shoulder and spread across the room enveloping the cast of characters below in a blinding array of white, clouding my vision until I could no longer see them. The bright light beckoned to me and I climbed higher, for I could not say no as I soared into the air unencumbered. Blue sky for miles was all I could see. I was free and strong; stronger than I had ever been, energized by a feeling completely foreign to me. Mountains came into view and the scenery changed yet again. Crisp autumn colors displayed before me as the Arizona desert came into view. Rust colored mountains and canyons materialized as I spread my arms wide and flew through the air like a bird. The sound of tom toms drummed in my mind and the pulsating rhythm beat through to my soul. The sun kissed my face as I rose ever higher. I felt like a god in the heavens as I transformed from my human shape. Wings replaced my arms as I soared through the air.

Then came the tug.

"_Jean…wait." _I heard Logan call as I felt the blades rip into his body shocking me into consciousness.

_Logan! _I thought as I sputtered and gasped for breath. I felt my head being turned as I choked on the swallowed water. I rolled over onto my side, my forehead resting on the cold metal beneath me as another wave of nausea attacked me. I braced myself with my other hand as I spewed the briny liquid, my lungs bursting with pain. _Oh dear God._ I couldn't get my breath. I couldn't open my eyes, so tightly they were squeezed as the retching continued. I didn't know a person could swallow so damn much water.

I sucked the precious air into my lungs, deeply…again. I felt like I'd been hit with a sledgehammer. I hurt all over. I couldn't move. My chest felt as though it had been crushed. I heard a voice in the distance, indistinct and unintelligible, coming closer, murmuring in my ear. It was soothing. I felt myself being pulled into a sitting position by strong arms. I gagged one last time as water poured from my throat, slick and warm.

I collapsed into sweet oblivion.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

_Ahhh, God that feels good,_ I thought as the warm water poured over me. Every muscle in my body ached from the pounding I had taken at the lake. Even the roots of my hair hurt. I couldn't believe I was still here, among the living. One minute I was standing on the ground watching a great wall of water come toward me as I gasped for breath, facing my fate head on, and the next thing I knew I was waking up in the lab, stretched out on a table, my mind in a fog so thick you could cut it with a knife. Heavy and suffocating, it made it hard to breathe.

Actually, it was from the way my ribs were tightly wrapped that made it so difficult to draw an even breath. I could feel the thick bandages wound around me, even though I lay still on the table. Every breath I took pulled and stretched the taunt material tighter. My head throbbed; the smell of antiseptic hung heavy in the air. The blood pulsed so hard against my skull I felt like a pressure-cooker ready to explode. Slowly I opened my eyes, squinting against the artificial light as it momentarily blinded me.

"Welcome back, stranger." Storm smiled down at me. I couldn't help but offer a weak smile in return as I closed my eyes again. I swallowed thickly.

"Hey." I said with a croaking voice and I took in another breath. Storm helped me into a sitting position and gave me some cold water to drink. It took a moment for the world to stop spinning around me and I took a sip. The coolness of the water soothed my parched throat and I drank deeply.

"How long have I been out?" I asked as I tried to stretch my legs. My muscles rebelled as I alternately tested their strengths and weakness. I felt so tight, like a 50 lb. bow, pulled back to its limits, arrow at the ready waiting to spring, yet not being able to.

"A little over a week. You were beginning to worry us, but the Professor said you needed the rest, to rejuvenate yourself. How're you feeling?"

"Ummm…" I said as I took yet another sip. "Like I've been hit by a Mack truck."

Storm laughed as she checked my pulse. "I guess you do."

I smiled wryly to myself as I remembered. _Yeah, I guess I do._

"Let me fix you something to eat. Some soup maybe?"

"That sounds wonderful," I thought, immediately ravenously hungry.

I had two bowls of soup and felt my energy returning. The hot liquid warmed my spirits as it spread throughout my body. Along with that came the awareness of myself and the uncomfortable feeling of not having bathed in a while. I raised my hand to my hair and could feel the slick sheen of grease there. Suddenly, I felt embarrassed.

"I really need to take a shower." I shuddered to think of how I looked. Storm took a long look at me, gave me her arm for support and led me to my room.

"Don't try to do too much," she warned as she left me there. The room I used to share with Scott. But Scott wasn't there, and neither were his things. I didn't ask Storm where they were. I already knew the answer.

The shower felt so good; the hot water soothed my tortured tendons. Resting my chin on my chest, I let the water cascade over my head and neck.The warm liquid rained over my aching bones. Fortunately, I hadn't broken anything. Just a few cracked ribs and some soreness that I attributed more to lying around a lab for the last week or so than to anything else. The heated water gradually eased the aching in my muscles, but did nothing to ease the aching of my soul.

Logan was gone. The disappointment I'd felt when Storm told me he'd left made me feel empty and alone. I ached for him, for his presence, for his warmth, his touch. He completed me. Without him I was not whole.

The steam from the shower was heavy around me as I lathered myself. God, that hot water felt good. My thoughts irrevocably returned to Logan. _Logan._ I imagined him there with me as I closed my eyes and let my mind wander aimlessly.

The images came fiercely, intensely, rapidly…Logan watching me -_click- _joining me -_click- _touching me -_click- _making me quake with desire -_click- _entering me -_click- _It was fast and hard -_click-_

_Oh God, I can feel him. Slick and wet._

"_Jean." _I gasped as I turned to face him. There was Logan, standing amidst the fog, his shirt molded to him like a second skin, longing etched his face. He hadn't said a word, yet I heard him loud and clear. How long had he been there…watching me…wanting me? His desire became mine as he held me captive with his inner thoughts, his mind an open book. He wanted me hot, he wanted me hard, and he wanted me now. My heart raced. I could feel the heat in his eyes- feel the intensity of them as they intimately roved my body, promising a satisfaction only he could fulfill. I instantly saw myself, writhing in ecstasy, pressed up against the glass doors, my breasts straining against the cool surface as Logan pressed into me.

I was panting at the thought. "Do it!"

He smiled seductively. "I will."

"Hurry," I whispered impatiently.

"No."

_No?_ I had mad thoughts of him eagerly ripping his clothes off, unable to get to me quickly enough. Oh no, as much as he wanted me, he was in no hurry. He'd waited too long for this and he was not about to rush anything. I looked through the glass door until our eyes locked, deepening with emotion. No, he was definitely in no hurry. He thought to tease me, to tempt me; and he was doing a remarkable job of it. Slowly he unbuttoned his shirt, his eyes never leaving mine…promising untold pleasures within their depths. Easing the shirt off his shoulders his muscles flexed in anticipation. What a glorious creature he was, so hard and broad. I wanted to race out of the shower and pounce on him **– **but I didn't. I could wait. I would make myself wait. He would come to me.

I swallowed hard when he reached down to unfasten his jeans. I stood there stock still, mesmerized by the sight of him, helpless to drag my eyes away from his hands, which were hovering ever so close to… The soap fell from my hand, landing on the floor with a loud thud. He smiled and continued his slow and deliberate little strip tease.With his forefinger and thumb he carefully slipped the button from its hole; he eased the zipper down, showing little glimpses of the white skin beneath. He moved forward and the motion eased his jeans over his hips, showing an even whiter expanse of skin. Logan's eyes were full of mischief; a naughty smile teased about his full, sensuous lips.

He reached for the shower door. This show wasn't over yet…


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Logan couldn't stop the pounding of his heart at the sight of her. He was rooted to the spot, unable to move as he gazed upon her. There she stood, like a Greek goddess, stepping through the fog; her arms poised above her head, her neck tilted back lifting her breasts as the water drizzled down her lengthy frame. Her skin glistened with an iridescent sheen as the bubbles washed away. She was mighty Athena, mistress of the hunt; long of limb, fit and trim…fit indeed. He subconsciously nodded his head in approval as his gaze swept over her. She had a patrician profile with high cheekbones and finely arched brows. Lips so soft and full he could lose himself in them. He liked the way her skin wrapped about her torso displaying toned abs that made him want to drop to his knees and explore their firmness further. He wanted to worship her, pay homage to her, with his words, with his hands, with his mouth.

She turned about arching her slender back, letting the warmth of the water spread over her, lost in thought and oblivious to his presence. He leaned against the doorjamb in feigned nonchalance, all the while he felt himself thickening with need as he watched her. His eyes narrowed hungrily as she soaped her sponge and let it glide along her collarbone. He watched avidly as she moved along her shoulder and over her sinewy biceps lathering herself in small slow circles. _Keep going, baby,_ he thought to himself. He felt his breath turn quick and shallow as he observed her, wanting her to continue, waiting for her to go further, silently begging her to touch herself.

She eased the aches within her arms, moaning as the tension diminished beneath the firm pressure of her finely made fingertips. The sound echoed in his mind and made him hot with anticipation, arousing in him primal need; his jeans tightened perceptibly in response. Suddenly he wanted to be the sponge, to rove all over her body, to touch every intimate part of her. He wanted to be the one to make her moan, to make her lose all control. And he would.

She moaned again, only this time the sponge dipped lower, leaving a sudsy trail over her breasts and ribs. He saw himself behind her, dipping where the sponge missed, his fingers slick with soap sliding down her skin pulling her buttocks against him as he nipped her neck. "_You want me," _he said into her ear with hushed urgency. It wasn't a question, it was a fact. He knew it and she knew it. She turned smoky eyes to him…eyes that said, "Take me, now!" She was incapable of speech. All she could do was moan._ "Say it!" _he coaxed, his finger dipping into her velvety entrance. She was on fire and ready for him.

He stood there transfixed in his musings, rock hard as the images came flashing one after another. He saw himself holding her. -_click- _Touching her. -_click- _Nipping at her. -_click- _Fingering her. -_click- _Making her quake with desire. -_click- _Entering her. -_click- _Fast and hard. -_click-_

"_Jean."_ God how he wanted her. Without warning she turned about, startled at his presence. She had heard him, heard him as though he had spoken aloud. She stood there mesmerized by his gaze…reading his thoughts, his needs, his desires. Her heart thumped wildly as she joined his mental gymnastics. She couldn't stand it anymore.

"_Do it,"_ she'd said to him. At first he hadn't realized she'd said it out loud, he was so lost in his daydreams. She stood there facing him, her face flushed, desire spreading in a becoming shade of pink from her neck to her toes. She wanted him. She licked her lips, her pink tongue darting out momentarily only to retreat back behind her teeth leaving them wet and in desperate need of attention. His eyes followed the sliver of pink and he licked his own lips in expectation of what was to come.

He loved her like this, this wild uninhibited Jean Grey. So unlike the unyielding picture she presented to the outside world. Quiet and reserved in both manner and dress, yet firm and passionate in her beliefs. Makes calculated decisions based on definitive data. Sure of herself, and very disciplined. Not exactly what he would call spontaneous. And here she was, hair plastered against her face, water traveling down her neck and chest silently begging him to fuck her brains out. And fuck her, he would.

He decided to tease her, to play with her. "I will." He smiled seductively.

When she told him to hurry, he thought he'd come right then and there. He wanted to hurry. He wanted nothing better than to slam her hard against the tile and pound into her like there was no tomorrow. But he wouldn't. No, that wouldn't do at all. It would be over too quickly, and that was not acceptable.

"No," he said back to her. The look on her face was precious; disappointment tinged with frustration. He grinned. Boy was she in for a treat, only she didn't know it yet. Slowly he eased himself from the doorframe, holding her gaze with his own. Her skin prickled in anticipation as he peeled his shirt off exposing coarse chest hair that resembled an atom bomb's mushroom cloud, all thick and full at the top and narrowed sharply only to disappear below the surface. Her eyes trailed lower as he brushed his hand against the waistband of his jeans, he watched her as she dropped the soap and subsequently the sponge. He took a step toward her, easing the zipper down, showing her little glimpses of the soft white skin beneath. As he took another step he stepped on the inside seam of jeans, pulling them down over his hips as he undulated forward. Again he maneuvered it so they continued to fall. She watched in wild-eyed fascination as he made his way toward her, watching as he sprang forth from his confinement, the denim no longer an impediment. He reached for the door.

"You missed a spot." Logan said as he stepped inside the shower.

With an agility she didn't know was possible, he was suddenly in the shower with her. His entire presence filled the otherwise large enclosure making it seem small, yet cozy. He pulled her to him, hip to hip, he pressed closer; the water drizzled down between them as his lips sought hers. She loved the feel of his dry skin against her, how it got all slick and wet as he rubbed against her soapy body, it was exquisite torture and she needed more. She pulled his head down to deepen the kiss, and their tongues dueled in wild abandon.

She clung to him as the water pelted their faces and rained over their bodies. Their skin turned exquisitely cold where the cool air hit and infinitely hot where they melded together, making them come alive with feeling. He touched her everywhere. He lifted and tilted her chin for better access as his lips moved on hers. His other hand pulled her hips to him as he ground her into his erection making her moan deep with pleasure. He enjoyed making her lose control. And he loved making her moan for him. She pressed herself against him encouraging him to continue. He didn't need further enticement.

His hands roamed along her ribcage, tracing the little concaves with his thumbs, making her suck in her breath as he tickled her neck with his whiskers. He moved lower, kneeling down, burying his face in her abdomen, kissing the soft skin there with slow deliberate laps, dipping into her navel…feeling the heat travel to her core. Jean wrapped her arms around his head, holding him close as he worshipped her. He molded her buttocks in a circular motion, squeezing them together, pulling them apart; she could feel herself swell with moisture, it felt so good. They heard the telltale sound of wetness, excitement mixed with anticipation. He slipped his hand between her thighs, finding her. He dipped one finger, finding her center, and entered her slowly, barely stroking her only to pull out. She arched against his hand, she wanted more. He looked up at her. He wanted to see her face when he touched her. He wanted to see her eyes fevered with desire and her body flushed. She looked down at Logan, and their eyes locked. He moved within her, deeper and withdrew, he watched her eyes. They were bright with yearning. He moved again, deeper still; she moaned. He started in rhythm, watching her as she rose in waves, she was standing but she started to shake.

Dizziness overcame her and she grabbed Logan's shoulders to support her. She was still weak, he should have realized that. _That's enough of shower time_, he thought. He held onto Jean, turned off the water and carried her over to her bed. They were soaking wet, but they didn't care. He laid her down, spread out beside her and continued where he left off.

She was open and ready for him. Again he dipped and probed making her writhe against him. She was so wet for him, so hot. He withdrew again and she gave a soft whimper that turned into whinny as she felt him stroking her again, this time in tandem. Two of them stepping up to the gate, jockeying for position, readying her for the race. Then the race was on, he delved deeper, stroking her, rubbing her until she lost all control. He felt it start, slowly building as it took over her…she contracted around his fingers, practically immobilizing him with its intensity as she found her release.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

I couldn't contain the cry of ecstasy that escaped my lips. Logan muffled the sound by slanting his lips upon mine. He stole my breath away. I was still throbbing with aftershocks when the hunger came anew. How could he do this to me? Make me want him so badly again, so soon? All I had to do was look at him again and the craving became all consuming. He delved deeper, his tongue plunging to the very depths of me. I clung savagely to him. Only he could assuage the fires burning deep within.

He was rough and hard as he ground himself against me, pinning me to the mattress. His hips pressed into mine, slowly grinding, pressing in, pressing low, pressing deep. I rose to meet him, simulating the mating dance with wild abandon. He slipped between my thighs, making me wriggle in anticipation. God, how I wanted him. I needed more. I needed to feel him. I needed to touch him. I needed to taste him…explore him. I nipped at his lower lip, my teeth lightly tugging the soft skin, then I sucked hard. I heard his breath come rushing out as he pulled away and looked at me, one eyebrow cocked up, an unspoken question on his mind. I was game for anything.

"Yes." I said smiling with erotic intent.

"Yeah?" He asked.

"Oh yeah," I answered as I pushed him back against the pillows and straddled him. I pressed my fingers to his lips when he tried to speak again. "Shhhhhh, you just lie back and be quiet." I slipped two of my fingers into the dark recess of his mouth, his tongue slid between them, slick and smooth - mimicking the act of love, sliding in and out. The sensations tingled to my core. I forgot to breathe.

I pulled my fingers from his lips and proceeded to weave a wet trail down his chest. I traced my fingers along his ribcage watching his abdomen contract as I continued the onslaught of his senses. I looked down at him, watching his face as my hands rubbed along my thighs, creating a tangible friction while I dipped my hips forward and back against him. I whispered to him, "It's your turn."

I watched his pulse beating erratically in his neck. His breathing became labored while his gaze followed the movement of my hands as they stroked my inner thighs, gliding ever higher, touching myself _there_ as I moved against him. He was loving the show. He encouraged me to continue with an approving nod. I felt hot and wanton, and totally uninhibited as I trailed my moist finger up, skimming my skin, dipping into my navel, as his bottle-green eyes followed my every move. I continued the path upward between my breasts, pausing there just a moment before I proceeded along the column of my neck, the curve of my jaw and into my mouth. He raised his gaze to my lips as I sucked on my fingers. He watched transfixed and I smiled. He knew what was coming, and quivered with heightened expectation. He licked his lips and drew an unsteady breath as I lowered my lips to his. His mouth was wet and warm and opened to me – devouring me as our tongues mated. _God this man can kiss…_

In slow measures I pulled away from him, splaying my fingers across his chest, loving the feel of his muscles as they flexed under my palms. Hard planes and angular lines mixed with soft skin and gentle curves as I moved against him. I was in control now. I leaned forward, and flicked my tongue over his nipples. They were hard and standing tall. Proud flesh. He gasped as my teeth nipped at his sensitive areolas. I loved making him lose control. It made me feel powerful, dominant. It made me bold. I continued with my descent, working my way to his abdomen, following the thick trail of dark hair. I slithered down the hard length of him. His breathing heaved as I took hold of him, rubbing against him, stroking him upward and back. I circled my thumb around his arousal and squeezed firmly. A liquid pearl beaded at the tip.

I turned my head to watch Logan watching me. He jerked in response. I licked my lips and smiled at him as I bent low to the task at hand. I thought Logan would come off the bed when my lips encircled him. He pulsed with pleasure. He gripped the sheets beneath him as he struggled for control. I paused momentarily, allowing him time to adjust before renewing my efforts.

He grabbed fistfuls of my hair and took in great whooshes of air as his baser needs were met. He thrust hard once – _Oh, God Jean_, he thought as I suckled. He thrust twice – _You're killing me!_ He thrust a third time – _I'm gonna come...Oh God,_ -

"_Come baby," _I thought to him as I sucked harder. He thrust again and again – _Jean! – _He bucked wildly beneath my ministrations, finally letting go, his pent-up passions exploded with abandon. He slowly released my hair and I smiled to myself, pleased by the way he responded to my touch.

"Jesus, Christ," Logan said as he lay spent, his legs sprawled, one arm draped over his eyes, the sheets still twisted where he'd gripped them in passion.

I laughed as I smoothed the linens and drew myself up against his length. I rested my head on his chest and absentmindedly toyed with the little mole on his ribcage that rose and fell with every breath he took. Logan's heart hammered against his chest. I felt it pulse against my cheek as it slowly returned to its normal rhythm. He pulled the sheets up and around us and I snuggled deeper into his warmth.

"I thought I'd lost you," he said quietly a short time later. He breathed in my hair and held me tight.

"I thought I'd lost you too." I hugged him tighter, content for the moment just to lay here with Logan. My thoughts wandered back to my conversation with Storm in the lab. "Wait a minute," I said as I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. "Storm said you were gone."

"I was gone. Just got back."

"Where'd you go?"

"Does it matter?"

Does it matter? Of course it mattered. Where did he go? What happened when we got back? Why did he leave? _Why?_

"Why? Why what," he asked puzzled.

_Why did you leave me?_

"You think I left you? Jean, I didn't leave you."

"Storm said you were gone. I was out for over a week and you just left." I shook my head dejectedly, my eyes brimmed with unshed tears. "I thought you loved me."

"I do love you," he pulled my chin up. "And I was there for you until this morning. I never left your side." His eyes searched mine, communicating volumes, and I knew he was telling the truth.

He took a deep breath and continued, "Jean, let me explain something to you. On Alkalai Lake - I went out of my mind when I realized you'd left the plane. I tried to stop you, but the hatch wouldn't open. Then I felt the plane shake as it lifted off the ground and went soaring into the air. I knew we were too late to save you." He squeezed my shoulder and pulled me closer to him.

"I knew I couldn't go on without you. I didn't _want_ to go on without you. Not after I just found you. I couldn't go through it again. I couldn't bear the loss one more time."

"One more time?" I asked not quite understanding.

"I remembered something."

"You remembered?"

"I remembered Rose."

He remembered Rose. _Rose. Yes, Rose. He loved her then._ _He loves her still. How can I compete with that? _But, Rose was dead.

"I remembered her dying, watching the blood as it drained from her face, the pain. Then I thought of you – of you standing there as the water pummeled you to death and I knew Icouldn't bear it again." His heart pounded against his chest as he relived those moments. "I'd rather die than live without you." He swallowed hard and took another deep breath. "When Nightcrawler appeared with you in the plane, I thought you were dead. You were so pale and still."

I listened, afraid to speak.

"I couldn't lose you. I just couldn't. I did everything I knew how."

_I know. I saw you. _

"Nothing worked. You weren't breathing, you were lifeless and pale, but I refused to give up. I couldn't believe you were dead."

_I remember. I saw your anguish._

"I felt like a part of me was being ripped from my body. Then I couldn't _feel_ you anymore. Your life-force left me. I felt empty and cold inside. That's when I knew. That's when I knew you were gone."

_You didn't want to believe it. _

"No, I didn't. But I knew it was true. I didn't want you to leave me. I didn't want to be alone again. I didn't want to go on without you." He stroked my hair as he continued. I could hear the erratic beating of his heart as he continued. "So I decided to join you."

"I heard you. You said, 'Jean, wait.' Then I felt it. I felt the blades ripping through my body. I gasped for air. Then the next thing I knew I was coughing up water. I don't remember anything that happened after that."

"I don't either. I was told we were both near death. I had no will to live and no will to heal myself. I had no will other than to be with you. Then I heard you. You shouted my name. By then it was almost too late. When I retracted my claws, my healing factor had slowed so much they feared I really would die. I passed out from a lack of blood, and thanks to Bobbie, put in a cryogenic state until they could get us transported back to the lab. We lay side by side as we healed.

"You were willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for me." I reached up to caress his face.

"You made the ultimate sacrifice for me." Logan said as he captured my hand in his to press a warm kiss against my palm. His whiskers tickled the vulnerable skin there. "I came to the next day, no worse for wear. You, on the other hand, showed no signs of waking up. The Professor said you were rejuvenating yourself, and when you were ready, you'd awaken. He had no doubts about that because of the seismic activity your brain waves registered." He paused a moment. "Not only were you rejuvenating…you were getting stronger."

"I didn't leave you, Jean. I stayed beside you day and night, waiting and watching, hoping and yes, I admit it, even praying. I wasn't doing myself or you much good at that point. I'd barely left your side in over a week. Then your brain activity lessened. The Professor felt you needed a jolt in order to regain consciousness. And unless you experienced something else traumatic, you might never return. He had an assignment for me. The assignment was to leave, temporarily. To disconnect myself from you. To have you fight to find me. As long as I was there, you were content. Once I left, you'd need me. Turns out he was right."

He _was_ there for me. My heart filled with joy. He didn't leave me. I lifted my lips to his, and pressed a soft kiss upon them. Logan held me tight as all of the night's events finally caught up with me.

Sated and tired, we slept.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

The feeling intensified as the pressure increased. Heat coursed through his body as she backed up further against him, her rounded bottom teasing him beyond reason. He gritted his teeth. Even in sleep, she aroused him. He pulled her hip back against him, settling himself at the base of her, feeling her warmth as he hardened like marble.

He wanted her. Badly. He couldn't seem to get enough of her. She drew him to her like a dog in heat. He was panting for a taste of her. He could smell her scent. He breathed deep. Musk and…spice.

He bit her shoulder in an attempt to rouse her from slumber. She giggled and tried to pull away. Little minx, she was already awake. She had deliberately baited him with her tantalizing derriere. He drew her back against him, wrapping his arm around her waist to span her stomach with his palm. He kneaded her. Her skin warmed to his finger's diligent ministrations. His breath was hot on her neck and his whiskers tickled her sensitive skin. Goosebumps rose like soldiers at attention, tall and stiff, increasing her awareness and titillating her senses. He let his roaming hand slip between her thighs. He rubbed. She squirmed in response.

"You like it like that?" He asked huskily, his fingers lightly pressing into her.

She placed her hand over his, molding it to her. "No," she said as she guided him, increasing his pressure, finding her rhythm. "I like it like _this_."

Her brazenness excited him. She knew what she liked and had no qualms in telling him so. It was one of the things he admired about her. She always went after what she wanted, no matter what it was. No goal was too high. No payment too steep. No brass ring out of reach. He expected nothing less of her. And he would give her what she so boldly asked for.

"Like this?" he said as he stroked her. Her breath jerked in response. He rubbed his lips against her neck sending ripples down her spine as he quickly learned how to please her.

She moaned. _Yes, like that._

He could feel the heat as it escaped her, making her skin incandescent with a salty sheen. He was hard with desire and pressed himself into her moist heat. He slipped in easily, marveling at how well they fit together – she was made for him. She arched back and he nipped at her neck, as a mustang would a mare then suckled her pulse point. It drove her wild with desire. She reached back to the corded muscles at his nape and pulled him closer.

Another moan escaped heras he plunged again – deeper. She set him on fire. He could feel the tension building within him as the blood surged through his veins. His nerve endings electrified with need. She moved with him. Deeper still he plunged, fighting the ever increasing temptation to let himself go. He held himself back, waiting for her.

Her breath came haltingly as she climbed higher toward ecstasy. He was there, helping her, as it continued to build, coaxing her as she fought to find it, whispering to her as he felt her clench about him, coercing her to come until she lost all control.

He stroked her cleft and she bucked against him. His body spasmed in response. He thrust into her – _breathing heavily _– he thrust again _– he was ready to explode _– he thrust three times– _she's coming _– he thrust once more, gripping her hard and let himself go. His groans of satisfaction were muffled in her shoulder as he pulsed deep within her.

His heart hammered against his ribcage. A feeling of total possessiveness coursed through him. Jean touched a cord deep within. _All bets are off,_ he thought to himself. _Scott can go to hell. _

"Good morning," he murmured in her ear, a satisfied smile on his lips. They were still spooned together; he felt her quaking with aftershocks.

"Good morning," she smiled back. She could feel him resting inside her and sighed.

"I could get used to this," Logan predicted.

"Me too."

"Oh yeah? You think so?" Logan teased.

Jean turned to face him. Settling into his warm embrace, "Mmmmmm," she said as she brushed her lips against his. "I know so."

"You're insatiable."

"You like me that way," she teased back.

"You're right," he paused and looked at her critically. "How're you feeling?"

She brushed the stray lock of hair back that had fallen over his brow, smiling into his eyes as she answered, "I'm good."

"You sure? I don't want you to overdo it."

"You're worrying about that now?" Jean asked, laughter bubbling in her voice. He certainly wasn't worried about her health a few moments ago. No, that was the last thing on his mind. _You were more interested in other things_.

"You're right," the deep timbre of his voice telling her in so many words that he was still more interested in 'other things'.

Jean started to chuckle. It erupted from her lips before she could stop herself. The more she tried to control it, the louder it became.

He rolled her onto her back and covered her body with his, "What's so funny?"

"You are," she laughed.

"Me?" He said as he gave her something to laugh about. He squeezed her waist making her squeal with delight until he silenced her with a kiss. He rolled onto his back, pulling her with him as he devoured her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Scott couldn't wait to talk to Jean. Now that she had awakened, they would get this matter taken care of right away. The sooner the better in his opinion. He awoke early with the intention of talking to her alone before Logan came back. He didn't want him swaying her opinion before he had the opportunity to speak to her. And besides, she owed him.

What Logan didn't know was that Scott had an ace in the hole. And he planned to use it. He had her promise. A vow. A vow he would make her honor. She promised him she'd do anything he wanted. _Anything. _Well, he wanted her.

He felt confident as he rounded the stairs taking the steps two at a time.

"Logan! No!" He heard her cry.

Scott heard the unmistakable voice of Jean from the other end of the corridor. He had been on his way to her when he heard her shout. Fear like he had never known ran the length of him. _Jean._ She must be having another one of her nightmares.

He ran down the hall toward her room.

"Jean!" He called from the door, frantically reaching for the handle. Scott heard neither the muffled giggle nor the masculine laughter as he burst in upon them.

"Jean, wake…" He came to an abrupt halt at the scene displayed before him.

"Scott!" Jean yelped, startled at the interruption. Scott took a quick assessment of the situation and his heart sank at the sight of the tangled sheets, entwined limbs and the heated pink flush in Jean's 'just-fucked-look' face. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He squeezed the doorknob tighter, tensing his muscles as shock and anger raced through his entire body. He didn't know what he felt. Then it hit him: betrayal.

When they arrived back at the mansion with an unconscious Jean, Scott and Logan had had it out. Both felt they had the right to be there for her. Both easily discounted the other's claim. Both felt they knew Jean well enough that she would choose them. They came to an agreement. Jean would choose…if she ever woke up.

He looked at Logan, lying there, one arm draped with easy familiarity along Jean's back while she partially covered him, her leg resting intimately between his, the outline of arousal evident under the sheets. Logan didn't even have the decency to try to look embarrassed. If anything he looked immensely satisfied. A wide grin quickly masked made Scott doubt he ever saw it. Logan turned his focus back to Jean, who scrambled for covers to hide her nakedness.

Scott stood there in complete and utter shock. "How could you?"

Logan's lashes lowered as his gaze caressed Jean's before turning his attention back to their intruder. "I think she's made her decision, pal."


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

And I had made my decision. I could no sooner change my mind about being with Logan than I could turn back the hands of time; for that was something I was incapable of. I needed Logan. And more than that, Logan needed me. As much as I hated to hurt Scott, my mind was made up.

Scott would never understand why I would pick a loner like Logan over him. Scott was everything Logan wasn't. He was stable, considerate and dependable. More than that, he knew who he was and what he wanted out of life. I couldn't say that about Logan. Logan, so moody and brooding – ever searching for his elusive past. He came and went as he pleased and answered to no-one. A hard man, a bitter man, a lonely man. No, Scott would never understand and I couldn't explain it to him. I didn't understand it myself. It was just something I knew. Something I needed. Something I wanted. _Logan. _

I felt like I was in the middle of a Mexican stand-off in the heavily paneled bedroom. Each one waited for the other to make the first move. The air crackled with tension. Everything was still as the two men eyed each other with quiet contempt. The only audible sound was Scott's labored breathing as he fought for control. He was doing an admirable job containing his rage. Logan lay there stock still, ready to strike, his muscles tensed in preparation for a fight. His nostrils flared in agitation and a muscle ticked sporadically in his cheek. He was ready for battle.

I couldn't believe this was happening. I thought at any moment I would wake up and it would all be a dream. Logan beside me, awakening me from these horrible visions, telling me it was all right. But, it wasn't all right. In fact, everything was all wrong.

Scott looked at me with disgust and my cheeks flamed in sudden embarrassment. I clutched the sheet tighter about me and looked away. _Holy shit!_ This was a fine predicament to be in. _What the hell was Scott doing here anyway?_

Logan's voice brought me out of my musings. "Get out."

"How could you?" Scott started raging at Logan. He pointed an accusatory finger at him. "We had a deal."

Logan's gaze shifted from Scott to me. He gave me a look filled with intimate innuendos and retorted smugly, "Some things you can't control." His eyes danced with amusement. He was enjoying this. I was not.

"That's bullshit!" Scott retorted, his voice filled with rage.

"Scott, what are you doing here?" I asked, trying to make some sense of the situation.

"I…I heard you screaming down the hall. I thought you were having one of your nightmares."

I shook my head. "I wasn't screaming."

"Yes, you were," Scott countered.

"No, I wasn't." _Screaming? When was I screaming?_

"Yes – you were." Logan stated matter-of-factly.

I turned to look at Logan as I searched my memory. His knowing grin widened as I wracked my brain. Laughing and loving was all I recalled. "I was?"

"Yes. But not from what he thought you were screaming for." Logan's lips turned upward as he remembered my shouts. How we wrestled about the bed, playing with each other, making each other beg for mercy…

I could feel the red, hot splotches as they appeared on my cheeks and spread to my neck. _Oh, God._ Now, I remembered. Despite the lack of clothes, it suddenly felt very warm in here.

"Jean, we need to talk," Scott said.

"Get out." Logan repeated.

"Not until I talk to Jean," he argued.

"That's not gonna happen, pal." Logan swung his legs around and off the bed. The muscles in his back flexed in response accentuating his lean ribs as he pushed himself up, the fluid movement reminding me of the catlike grace of a panther as he moved toward Scott in naked splendor. There wasn't an inch of fat on him. He was all sinew and muscle. And he was consumed with rage at the interruption. His nostrils flared and his lips curled back into a feral snarl.

"Get out. Now!" He shouted. _Snikt_ The blades appeared without warning. A metallic click slammed them into a locked and ready position. Scott reached for his visor ready to retaliate.

_Oh Jesus. No._

I grabbed the sheet and sprang from the bed when the memories of Logan's past assailed my senses in spine-tingling clarity. An impending feeling of Déjà vu hit me._ There was Rose, yelling at them –click- begging Logan to stop –click- screaming at him –click- But, he wouldn't listen –click- He would have his revenge. –click- _The sounds of bones springing forth, ripping the skin echoed in my mind._ She stepped between them as he dealt the lethal blow. The look of shock and surprise on her face as she felt the embedded claws sluice into her etched into my mind. _Logan's feeling of helplessness as he watched the blood drain from her sun kissed face. It was too late for Rose.

I launched into action.

"Logan, no!" I screamed, reaching for him. The blades immediately retracted. I stepped between them holding Logan back I turned my attention to Scott.

"Scott, this is neither the time nor place for a conversation. If you want to talk, we'll talk, but not here. Not now." My heart was in my throat, the realization of what could have been hit me. The results would have been disastrous.

"When? Where?" Scott demanded to know. He was not going to back down.

"I'll meet you in the library in twenty minutes." I could feel Logan at my back, menacing and fuming with repressed anger.

"Fine." He nodded in agreement. Scott gave Logan one more angry look before he turned and acknowledged me, "Twenty minutes." Then he left. His heavy footsteps echoed down the long hall.

Rage filled me as I turned back to Logan. "What the hell was he talking about? What deal?"

Logan stared at me in stony silence.

"You made a deal about me, didn't you?"

Logan said nothing.

"Didn't you?" I poked my finger into his chest, pushing him backward until the back of his legs pressed against the edge of the mattress. He could go no further. Logan planted his feet wide and stood his ground.

"It's not like you think, Jean," Logan answered.

"What do you mean, 'It's not like I think?' How would _you_ know what I'm thinking?" I yelled at him. I shoved hard at his chest. He didn't move. I shoved harder, with both hands. Nothing. It was like trying to move a mountain. Impossible.

I put my face a hair's breath away from his and looked at him questioningly, "_You trying to tell me you can read minds now?_"

His cheek twitched at the slight.

"No, that's not what I mean."

"That's not what you mean? Well then, why don't you enlighten me. _Tell_ me what you mean."

"No, you tell me." Logan insisted angrily. He captured my hands in one swift movement pressing them on either side of his temples, his look daring me to take a peek.

It was as if I were there watching the story unfold from Logan's point of view, as if inside his very head. I could feel his loss, his sense of helplessness as he gazed down at me while I lay unconscious in the lab, oblivious to his presence. The way I looked through his eyes made me humble with love for this man. He saw me as his life-mate, his love, his future.

I paused, pulling back and looked at him with wonder, my palms still flat against his temples.

"Go, ahead. See for yourself." He urged.

The intensity of his gaze pushed me further and opened the floodgates for a myriad of swirling emotions that encompassed this mystery of a man to come rushing in at full force. I watched in fascination as the scene unfolded before me.

I was back in the lab. Logan's hand held mine as he spoke to me, willing me to awaken. His heart was breaking as he kept his vigil. The only time he'd left my side was when Storm shooed him out to examine me or if he needed to shower or eat. And even then, he made short work of it, returning once again to my bedside to continue his watch.

He had returned from one of these short breaks to find Scott hovering over me, his lips close to mine. Jealousy and rage as I've never known flooded through him at the sight. In three strides he reached Scott, angrily pounding his fist into his shoulder sending Scott flying backward into a cabinet.

"Get off her!" Logan roared at him.

"What the hell…" Scott started, as he righted himself, shaking off the pain in his shoulder with a jerk. "Just who the hell do you think you are?"

"You stay away from her."

"Make me," Scott taunted.

Logan advanced on him ready to pulverize him to a bloody pulp when he was suddenly frozen into place. Scott too was also incapable of movement.

"No one's going to make anyone do anything," the Professor interrupted smoothly as he wheeled into the room between them. "Least of all, you two." His smile was wide as he looked at the two of them.

They stood there in frozen animation, helpless to do anything but breathe. They were a captive audience as the Professor continued.

"Now, if you both promise to behave yourselves, I'll release you."

As quickly as they were suspended, they were freed.

"This isn't over." Logan insisted.

"Yes, I'm afraid it is for now," said the Professor. "I'll not have two of my best men fighting each other over a woman, no matter how remarkable she may be."

He wheeled himself over to where I lay unconscious, "Jean will choose when she awakens. Leave it go until then. Agreed?"

Grudgingly they had agreed, though neither were happy about it.

"So, you see Jean, it wasn't really a deal." Logan stated, jolting me back to the present. He pulled my hands away from his face and pinned them against my sides where they could do no harm.

"Scott just thought it was deal. For some reason, he seemed to think you'd choose him over me. So, we agreed to let you make the decision when you woke up."

"I don't understand," I paused. "He thought I'd choose him? I told him before we went to Alkalai Lake that I wanted to be with you."

"Well, he seemed to think differently."

Then it dawned on me why he would think that. "Oh, God, Logan. I know what it was."

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Twenty minutes later I stood outside the library doors, dreading my conversation with Scott. I reached for the door handle, took a deep breath and stepped inside. Scott was waiting for me. His back was to me as he stood looking out of the window into the lush gardens below. His stance proud and determined. He turned to face me as I entered the room, his expression grim. I swallowed hard.

"Scott," I began. I was unsure of what to say. I closed the door quietly behind me and leaned back against it for support. The silence was deafening. I could feel the conflicting emotions battling within him. He was angry, he was hurt and he was still in love with me. And I couldn't soothe his wounds. I couldn't heal his hurt. I couldn't wipe away his anger or take away his pain. I felt helpless as I watched him grapple with the knowledge that it was over. Really over.

"Is he who you really want, Jean?" Scott asked quietly.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

He turned on his heel and stormed out of the room. He could not believe what he had just witnessed. His shoes echoed down the hall, sounding hollow and empty as he made his way toward the library. "Twenty minutes," she said. Twenty minutes. He looked down at his watch and mentally noted the time. When the hell had Logan gotten back?

That son-of-a-bitch! God how he hated the cocky bastard.

His angry strides lengthened as he made his way toward the library. How could this have happened? He could not get the images out of his mind; they repeated over and over again, a continuous loop, in startling clarity. Logan and Jean draped about each other like clinging ivy, you couldn't see where one vine started and the other finished so wrapped about each other were they. The heated look in her face, hair tossed about her in wild disarray, the hot pink blush as it spread over her neck and chest – yes, he remembered that look. She had been well and truly pleased.

He thought back to when they had first met at the school, all those years ago. She was a beauty even then, although only a teenager. He was completely mesmerized by her. He looked beyond her awkward angles and gangly height. Lithe and lanky with long dark hair, she exuded an untapped sexual magnetism that even she wasn't aware of. Jean moved with the sensuous grace of a lioness, all sleek and confident. He on the other hand was more likened to an abandoned dog, wary of strangers and unsure of their kindness. Secretly he feared rejection, but losing was never an option. So, he got in the game.

Scott and Jean became part of a team, part of the Professor's plan. They learned, they trained, and they became X-men. They recruited other mutants and taught them to deal with their mutations, allowing them to form relationships with others just like themselves, without the constant fear of rejection or revulsion. Relationships built on trust and honesty. They learned their own lessons, and to Scott's eternal amazement their own relationship slowly shifted from friendship to love to a deep and abiding commitment – or so he thought.

And then there was Logan. Scott's jaw tightened, his fists clenched. He couldn't even relive happy memories without Logan popping unbidden into his mind. Actually, it was just like Logan, to force his way in, barrel through all the defenses, take what he thought was his and dare anyone foolish enough to try to take it away from him.

He shook away the annoying visage of Logan and instead concentrated on the more appealing image of the young Jean Grey. Tension eased and his hands slowly unclenched as his mind returned to those early days at the school.

It didn't take long for Jean to captivate each and every guy in the class. She was oblivious to her affect on others. While all the guys vied for her attention, she focused her concentration on learning to control her powers, perfecting her craft, and trusting in herself and her abilities. She was friends with everyone, never aligning herself with one over the other, giving her smiles and attentions freely …until Scott. He with his boyishly handsome face, new-found quick humor, and beguiling banter eventually disarmed her. He became her friend and their friendship grew. He kept her smiling and she kept him spellbound.

Even the Professor hadn't been immune to Jean's charms. He'd seen the woman lurking within and worshipped her from afar. No one seemed to be aware of this but Scott. The Professor, unaware of Scott's presence and close scrutiny, revealed his vulnerability for young Jean. He was enamored with her. The look on his face belied his feelings. He was lost in thought and hadn't heard when Scott approached. It was only when Scott came into his line of vision, that he became aware of his presence. The look was quickly hidden, but not before Scott recognized it and understood. No one was immune.

Scott shook his head in wry disbelief, his face relaxing into a ghost of a smile as he considered the Professor. He was no rival for Jean's affections. He may have appreciated the ripe woman Jean would become, but her allure would not tempt him to cross that line. His role was to nurture her, not to seduce her. Logan, on the other hand had less noble thoughts in mind. Scott's jaw involuntarily clenched and the veins in his forehead stood out as Logan once again invaded his thoughts. Banishing him once again, Scott turned introspective.

He was content with the hand life dealt him. It was a good hand – not great, but good.

He played his cards close – watching for the tells, passing when needed and checking when he should. He watched and waited for the perfect opportunity to make his move and claim the big prize. For the moment he was willing to play along and call. It wasn't until Angel upped the ante and started outwardly pursuing Jean that gave Scott the impetus to raise him one make his move. Strategy was Scott's strong point, and he knew how to play the game. He watched the cards as they fell, paid close attention, knew what was showing, made his move and bet it all.

Scott had always been attracted to Jean and it seemed the natural order of things for a special bond to form between them. They trained together, they worked together and subsequently they fell in love together.

Jean became Scott's friend, his confidant and eventually his lover. They were so much alike in many ways: smart, organized, methodical and driven, each vanquishing their own personal demons with devotion and hard work. Scott, unaccustomed as he was to personal reflection, let himself relax and looked back on the memories that haunted his youth. In upbringing he and Jean differed greatly. Scott was orphaned at an early age, and learned to live by hook or crook, using his powers for gain, not for good. Jean on the other hand, was born to privilege, well loved by her doting parents, and given every opportunity for success. They were as different as night and day, yet under her influence and that of the Professor, Scott began to allow himself to trust…

_Damn it! _He slammed his fist into his palm. He was angry and frustrated. _How in the hell had this happened? _He rounded the corner and stepped quickly down the stairs, ignoring the banister in his haste.

_When had Logan gotten back? _He mentally questioned himself. It must have been sometime last night. The back-stabbing son-of-a-bitch! They had a deal. Or so he thought. Although if he were totally honest with himself, they hadn't really agreed to anything but to wait until Jean had awoken. And awoken she had.

Scott assumed he would have a chance to talk to Jean when that happened. That both he and Logan would have their say, plea their case and stake their claim. He'd pictured it in his mind's eye a thousand times over the past week. Jean would wake up, disoriented and weak after the ordeal she had been through. The Professor, ever the diplomat, would preside over it all like a Judge. He would summon both of them into his chambers and lay out the ground rules. Both of them would have an opportunity to speak to Jean, both of them would try to convince her to choose them. Both of them would try, but only one of them would win. Scott knew he would win and that Logan would lose; after all, he was still holding the trump card – Jean's word was her bond.

Scott hadn't counted on Logan getting to her first. _That bastard. He looked so damn smug lying there._

How could Jean? She promised. Scott's confidence slowly dissolved as his jealousy returned. _This is all Logan's doing._

Logan set his trap for Jean and she became a willing victim. He maneuvered her unwittingly into his lair with his teasing looks, endless innuendos and his charismatic bad boy attitude. His raw presence put a constant strain on Scott's relationship with Jean. Logan teased her, baited her, and kept her off balance until she couldn't control her emotions or her attraction to the arrogant, self-centered loner.

Scott forced himself to look honestly at Jean and Logan. It took a monumental effort to keep the anger at bay, yet he had to evaluate the situation without bias. He had to look at it from all angles and unless he controlled his emotions he couldn't look at it objectively. He took a deep breath, letting the anger leave him as he thought about it. He'd start at the beginning.

Something had bonded Jean to Logan – the same something that widened the chasm in their own relationship. Scott hadn't seen it coming at first. Slowly, imperceptibly and decidedly she'd distanced herself from him. The gap became so wide he couldn't seem to reach her.

_How did I let it happen?_

He knew though. He not only took Jean for granted, but let their relationship stagnate. What excitement had he provided to the serious, business-minded Jean? What woman wouldn't be swept off her feet by the handsome, muscular bad boy that every woman itched to tame? These were the questions he now asked himself. However, Scott's masculine pride would not allow him to accept the fact that he was steady and predictable, almost boring in comparison to Logan.

_Ok, so where do I go from here?_

He mentally noted how many chips he had left and counted his mistakes. He'd already lost the last couple of hands, he needed to pay attention and bet wisely. He needed to adapt to the new game, for the rules had changed. He thought of what he should have done. He should have gone to her last night; he should have checked on her; he should have trusted her in the first place instead of putting her on the defensive. And most importantly, he should not have underestimated Logan. It was a fatal error on his part.

His hard strides brought him to the library in short order. Still deep in thought, he angrily threw open the doors, startling the occupants of the room. KittyPryde and two other students he didn't recognize sat around a table studying, books and note paper strewn about. They took one look at his angry features and hurriedly gathered their things. KittyPryde vanished through one of the walls while the others left by more conventional methods.

He walked over to the window and looked out at the gardens with a blind eye, seeing nothing but his own misery, trying to come to grips with the persistent image of Logan and Jean in their post-coital glow. Pulling himself back to the present he looked at his watch. Fifteen minutes had passed.

_What makes Jean so attracted to Logan?_ _What's wrong with me? _

After all, Scott was handsome, he was stable. He was the all-American boy next door. What woman wouldn't want that? He was the good guy. Why wouldn't she want the good guy? _Because good guys always finish last._ And Scott couldn't begin to compete with a loner like Logan.

But Logan was exactly that, a loner. Sure, right now it was all new, it was all fresh it was all-consuming, but what happens when it's not so new, not so fresh and he decides to move on. Because loners never change. They may try, but they don't change. One day he'd move on – alone. And Scott would be there for her when that happened. He would pick up the pieces of her broken heart and hold her tight until the hurt stopped hurting.

He had just come to this conclusion when he heard the heavy library door open behind him. He didn't need to look at his watch to know that exactly twenty minutes had passed. Jean was always prompt. He took a deep breath as he turned to face her.

She just stood there for a moment, her back to the door, remnants of the heated flush still lingering on her neck, making her look alluring, yet off limits.

"Scott," she started, unable to continue.

Scott battled his emotions, alternately wanting to throttle Logan on one hand and feeling hurt and betrayed by Jean on the other. He still loved Jean. He'd always love Jean.

He looked at her questioningly. "Is he who you really want, Jean?"

She looked at him, not wanting to hurt him further, yet unwilling to lie to him, "Yes."

Scott knew when to fold.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

It happened the same way every time. It was dark outside, but it wasn't night. It was the time between night and dawn when everything is quiet and still. Even the crickets seemed to sleep. It was mystical yet foreboding at the same time, trance-like yet unsettling, a time when your worst fears become reality. Twilight. We should have been lying there entwined in each other's embrace, deep in slumber, peaceful and content; but we weren't. The air sizzled with apprehension and dread as Logan dressed methodically and systematically. The time had come, as I knew it would. He never said a word; he just slipped on his jacket and walked out the door.

I would lay there, tense, pretending sleep, barely breathing as he turned the knob and walked out of my life. In the dream he never looked back.

I'd watch from my bedroom window as his silhouette widened the distance between us. The pane would fog from the cold contrast of my heated breath, blurring my view, my vision already distorted from the tears welling up of their own volition.

A sinking feeling would rise from the pit of my stomach to lodge in my chest as I tried to contain the hysteria that threatened to overwhelm me. A sharp sense of unnamable doom hovered ever so close. Something was going to happen, something I could not control, something just beyond my reach.

"_Logan, don't!_"

And then I would wake up, shaken and anxious, my heart pounding. It echoed in my head like a beating drum, wild with rhythm and heavy percussion. Feeling the incredible loss so sharply, I'd reach out to the space next to me, to touch him, resting my hand against his chest to ensure myself he was still there. It was almost as if, even in sleep, he could sense my distress. He'd pull me tighter against him, rub his legs against mine and press a kiss against my brow, soothing me while still deep in sleep. His arms would wrap around me, securing me in his embrace, as his natural instinct to protect me took over. I'd snuggle deeper, pressing against him in an effort to chase away the doom while I watched the rhythmic way his chest rose and fell until sleep finally reclaimed me.

I'd had the same dream every night for over a week, and it never changed. Logan would leave me. I didn't know when, but I knew it would be soon. I couldn't banish the feeling.

I shook my head, trying to dispel the gloomy thoughts running rampant in my mind. There was nothing I could do about it until the time came. _And what will I do when the time does come?_ Would I just let him go like in my dream? I didn't know the answer._ Will I beg him to stay_? _And if I do, will it make a difference?_ Somehow, I didn't think so.

I looked over to the window, and watched as the sun poured in, illuminating the room with a soft warmth; the same window in my dream, so full of doom and foreboding. As much as I didn't want Logan to leave, I couldn't imagine begging him to stay; clinging to him like some bothersome child, unwilling to let him go. No, that wouldn't do. It would happen like the dream, but until that time came, I'd make the most of the time we had left together.

I stood in our bedroom, folding clothes and putting them away when I noticed a crunched up t-shirt sticking out of the armoire. I tugged on it and the drawer came flying out, its contents spilled all over the floor. I had to smile at the attempt Logan had made to shove everything he possibly could into one drawer. He said that was all he had needed. He didn't have much. I was in the midst of sorting through it all when I came across a wispy piece of material, so unlike the sturdy cotton shirts and ribbed tanks. I pulled it out and eyed it suspiciously. _My thong._ Or rather, what was left of it. I remembered tucking it into the shirt pocket I was wearing at the cabin. His shirt. His pocket. And he'd kept it.

Memories of the cabin came rushing back to me. His hands were everywhere, touching me, caressing me, worshipping me as only he could. The 'popping' sound as my thong gave way to a hotter pursuit. We couldn't get close enough as we strained against each other.

As if I had conjured him up myself, I looked up from my erotic musings to find Logan standing in the doorway silently watching me. My face flamed as the decadent thoughts still swirled about me, leaving me pulsing with desire. Having the object of that desire before me only intensified my need. I looked up at him, a ready smile on my face until I saw how determined he looked. His expression froze me to the spot. _No. Not now._

"I," Logan started. I felt the change in him immediately.

_What?_

"I have to go." He could barely look me in the eye.

The past few weeks had been heaven on earth with Logan and I didn't want it to end. But, there were so many unanswered questions lying dormant deep within him. He remembered scattered images of the past that he felt threatened his future, not only with me, but with everyone. Until he discovered the man he used to be, he was unable to move forward as the man he longed to become. He had anger and rage buried within him that jeopardized the core of his existence, and without knowing where it came from, left him uncertain of his future.

The nightmares continued to haunt him at night and plague him by day. Like a caged animal he paced restlessly, alternately wanting to remain with me yet anxious to find the truth. The memories of Rose continued to elude him. What little I knew only raised more unanswered questions. Only Logan could solve the mystery of his past, and he needed to do it on his own.

_When?_

"Soon."

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We were lying in bed wrapped around each other like a snakes on a vine. The sheets, a crumpled mess at the foot of the bed, were forgotten in the heat of passion. Our lovemaking had a desperate edge to it tonight. It was fierce, it was wild, it was primal as we came together. Strong strokes and gripping touches – guiding each other, coaxing each other, urging each other onto higher plateaus to reach further still. Each of us knowing tonight was the night, but neither of us willing to say anything about it, neither of us wanting to spoil our time together. Neither of us wanting to let go.

The quiet of the night was disturbed by the creaking of the bed. I hadn't realized I had fallen asleep. I opened my eyes to the reflection of the moon as it cast shadows along the walls. I knew.

Logan dressed methodically and systematically. The time had come. He never said a word as he slipped on his jacket and walked toward the door.

I laid there, tense, pretending sleep, barely breathing as he turned the knob and walked out of my life. He never looked back.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

_She looked so young and innocent. Fresh-faced and sweet like apple pie. 'C'mon, James', she laughed. Her dress swished about her legs, showing shapely calves and laced boots. He chased after her, grinning. He was going to catch her this time. She dodged behind a tree, wrapping her arms about it, swaying from side to side, daring him to follow. He would not give up, so he ran faster. She squealed and darted to yet another barrier, measuring the distance between them. 'You're not gonna give up, are ya?' she teased. Not on your life, he thought._

_Her hair trailed behind her, flapping to and fro like a flag in the early summer breeze as she ran toward the hedges. She blended with the shrubbery, rich and lush in her emerald green gown. The same color as her eyes. She was on the verge of womanhood, ripe for the picking. Her lilting laughter floated toward him. The sound reverberated throughout his lean adolescent body, sending a shockwave into nerve endings he had recently become intimately aware of. His body was changing. At least some of it was. _

_He wouldn't give up. She wouldn't either. Not until he caught her. He stood poised on one side of the bush, and she on other. The thick branches prevented him from vaulting over; it was too high, coming nearly to his chest. The look in her eyes challenged him. He faked to the left, then, suddenly sprang right. She bolted away and he ran after her, running hard, a smile permanently etched on his features. He closed the gap between them and reached for her. His arm wound about her waist, jerking her toward him, causing her to lose her footing. She stumbled and fell – dragging him down on top of her. She was still laughing when they hit the ground. He was instantly aware of every inch of her as he pressed full length against her. She smelled of newly cut flowers and honey. She smiled into his eyes. 'I guess you caught me!'_

_Yes I did, he thought and now you must forfeit the price. A kiss._

_James opened his mouth to tell her so, but he was breathing hard. Too hard. Heat rushed to his face as he struggled for breath. His windpipe squeezed to a narrow slit. Rose's teasing look vanished from her face, as she realized James wasn't teasing back. He was wheezing hard. 'James!'_

_He tried to call out to her, but nothing would come out, he just looked at Rose helplessly as the world went black around him._

Logan awoke with a start struggling for breath, fighting the overwhelming feeling of suffocation, gasping for air – his chest heaving. It took him long moments before he realized he was no longer dreaming and he could breathe freely. He could still feel the way the blood vessels swelled and rushed through every layer to escape his skin. How his eyes bulged forth and his tongue thickened. He swallowed hard. It reminded him of the tank, of Stryker, of waking in the water with the overwhelming desire to survive. To get the hell out of there by any means possible. That awful thought of 'What have I done?', 'What evil had I traded my life for', and inevitably, denial – he couldn't have done it willingly. These were the thoughts that erupted into his mind. He found parallels in both dimensions bringing forth hidden memories in bits and pieces too fragmented to put together into any coherent order.

He threw back the covers and padded naked toward the sink. He was bathed in sweat from his nocturnal wanderings. He splashed cool water onto his face and ran a shaky hand through his hair. _Rose_. The dreams were coming fast and furious lately.

They had started off as scattered images, flashes of his past in no specific order. People, places and things that held no meaning for him. Until now. The puzzle pieces started to come together. First there was Rose. Like an elusive flame, she teased and tempted him, shining bright and clear one moment only to sputter and go out the next. Every time he thought he had it pieced together another dream would come, disorienting his previous thoughts. He ran through the mental list of the things he did know:

He knew Rose. He acknowledged to himself that she had been his first love. The days of innocence. He knew they had not lasted long. They were just brief glimpses of happiness overshadowed by darkness. What happened to him; hardened him and made him into the man he was today? He knew he wasn't exactly a ray of sunshine. He purposefully kept people at a distance, discouraging them with his words and actions, widening the gap so they wouldn't get close.

He looked about the dingy motel room he'd been holed up in for the last few days. It was not where he wanted to be. Thoughts of Jean swirled around him. He let _her_ get close. Real close. Too close. He didn't mean for it to happen. He wasn't looking for anyone. He was looking for his past and was determined to find it, no matter how long it took or what the cost. Then came Jean. She bewitched him with her sly smiles and witty retorts and ensorcelled him into her heart and into her bed.

He looked up at himself in the mirror. He was a fool. Instead of trying to piece together the remnants of his shattered life in the past, he should be concentrating on building a new life in the present with Jean. _Who cares about who I was before, it's who I am now that's important._ He cared, and therein laid the problem. Only now he felt impatience at his stilted progress.

He'd been gone nearly three weeks now, and although closer to unlocking the secrets of his past, was discontent and frustrated with his efforts. His dreams consisted of childhood memories, of innocence and awakenings. Nothing to indicate the hard man he became. Nothing but a child's simple memories. Not enough to give him answers, only more questions.

It seemed the further north he went, the more detailed his dreams became. That was the only reason he didn't give up. He was getting closer and he had to know more. He needed to find the answers. He couldn't rest until he did. And he couldn't have Jean until then.

He thought back to their last night together. He'd walked into their room and she was there waiting for him, lying on the bed amidst a sea of pillows, in a silky little teddy that left little to his imagination. Not that he needed to use his imagination. He knew every dew-covered inch of her. Rich magenta in color, it hugged her every curve, dipping into the little concaves, accentuating her fair skin and rounded breasts. They begged to be touched. He smiled at the thought.

No words were necessary. The hunger in her eyes said it all. A hunger that matched his own.

She had been a vixen that night, taking over the lead and straddling him, her head thrown back in passion, hair disheveled, several thick strands framing her face. She rode him like a horse, comfortable in her seat and enjoying the ride. Taking him with her as she dipped her hips and rocked back and forth against him.

She moaned. He liked it when she did that. It rose from deep within her. The sound drove him harder as he gripped her hips and ground her against him. She moaned louder and called out his name.

She was magnificent. And he left her. He didn't even say goodbye. It was the hardest thing he'd ever done, walking out that door. It took every ounce of his will not to look back. If he wanted to move forward with the future he had to go back to his past. And that was why he was still there, staring at himself in a rusted mirror at a dingy motel. He had to know more.

He continued with what he knew. He knew he was James. He knew he was a sickly child. He knew he had asthma. He knew he loved Rose. He knew it was good in the beginning and bad in the end. But, he didn't yet know what lie in between.

He knew Stryker thought he was a monster. Why? What had he done?

He knew one other thing. He wanted to go home.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

She stepped into the room without any regret or mental reservation. It took several moments for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. A sliver of moonlight escaped the heavily paneled curtains, casting a diagonal streak across the man lying in the large four poster bed. She felt a moment of hesitation, then pushed it abruptly away.

She'd made up her mind and she'd stick to the plan. Some would think she'd switched her loyalties. Some would think her fickle, a womanly trait she did not like tagged to her. She didn't care what they thought – she knew what she was – driven and determined to make the best of her situation. She knew what she had to do.

He didn't stir as she entered; then slowly, cautiously, silently she closed the door behind her.

It had been five weeks. Five weeks and no sign of Logan. No one had heard from him. Disappointment tinged with disillusions threaded through her mind. Such had been her life of late. Why hadn't he returned? _Because he was too damn preoccupied with his past instead of moving forward with his future._ Her resolve renewed. She would wait no longer.

She made her way to the edge of the bed and unfastened the satin belt that secured her robe, easing it off of her slender shoulders. She let it pool to the floor in one fluid movement and slipped beneath the covers. She pressed herself against his warm solid frame. He was thinner than she remembered. He stirred slightly in slumber, easily slipping back into what was once a habit of molding her to him. She took full advantage of his subconscious mind and responsive body. Her lips teased his with feathery kisses, coaxing him, pleading with him, silently begging him with her body to awaken.

Something penetrated the inner recesses of his slumber. He was having difficulty identifying it. He was so tired; his eyelids felt as though they were glued together and refused to obey his command to open. He struggled to pull himself from Morpheus' grasp, all the more difficult due to the sleeping pills he took before retiring. It was the only way he could fall asleep. Otherwise, thoughts of Jean took over his body and soul – leaving him a hollow shell of the man he used to be. He would find himself pacing the floors of the mansion throughout the night, and since Logan was gone, often found himself standing outside her bedroom door. Wanting to go inside, but daring not. Sometimes all was quiet. Sometimes it was not; and he'd catch himself listening to her cry over the man who left her. It tore him apart. Yet there was nothing he could do for her. And nothing he could do for himself. The pills got him through the night, and the dreams temporarily eased his pain. He teetered on the edge of unconsciousness, where wakefulness and oblivion met, balancing precariously until one won over the other. _Wake up._

"Jean?" Scott slowly came to awareness, his mind in a heavily laden fog, nearly impenetrable. He had been having the most remarkable dream. Logan was gone for good, Jean was with him again, and they were happy – really happy. They were a family. They were lying in bed. It felt so damn real. He could _feel_ her body wrapped about his… _wait_…

He jolted back, reality hitting home with a resounding thwack as his head hit the mahogany headboard. _Oww!_ He was suddenly alert and quite aroused. His lips still tingled from her kisses. "Jean?" He questioned again. He could hardly believe it. How many times had he dreamed about this? How many times had he fantasized? How many times had he hoped - only for him to wake up in the morning feeling empty and alone? And now she was here. Really here. With _him_. In his bed. Why? What was she doing here? What had happened? Was everything all right? His heart raced at the myriad of thoughts running rampantly through his mind.

"Shhhhhh," she said as she pressed a finger to his lips.

She gently but firmly pushed him back against the pillows and ran her lips down the corded column of his throat – thick with stubble, rough against her soft lips. His neck arched to meet her. She liked him that way – unkempt and wild. She felt his pulse beating erratically as she continued the ambush of his senses.

He could feel her –everywhere- touch her –everywhere- taste her-everywhere- smell her-everywhere. She filled his senses and brought them to life again. She made him whole.

He didn't care why she was there. That she came to him was enough. _She_ came to _him_.

He ached with need of her. _Oh God, Jean!_ He threaded his fingers through her hair and with supreme effort pulled her away from him. Searching her face in shadows of the dim light, he had to ask, "Are you sure this is what you want?"

He wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer to that question. Half afraid of another rejection yet daring to hope that his hand had indeed changed for the better. He had to be sure. She had to be sure. He was playing a new game, her game, and he needed to learn the rules. Because he intended to win.

She was brought up short by the question. Is this what she really wanted? It didn't matter what she _really_ wanted, she thought wryly. She couldn't have what she really wanted.

Her answer was to wind her fingers through his hair which had grown longer over the last several weeks and pull him to her, capturing his mouth in a searing kiss. He ground his lips to hers, exploring her, relishing the texture and taste of her. Devouring her as a starving man would, savoring every taste, memorizing every touch – desperately holding onto her – for fear that at any moment she might disappear like a mirage in the desert. He couldn't bear it if that happened.

He worshipped her with his hands, he worshipped her with his mouth, he worshipped her with his body. He made her moan in pleasure. She wrapped her legs around him. He made her forget herself. She drew him into her. She thought of nothing, not Logan, not Scott, no-one as he buried himself inside her. She felt the heat building deep inside her, taking her higher, making her pulse with gratification as he ground against her. She moved with him, reaching for him, arching against him until they exploded in a dazzling array of fireworks.

Moments later, with his arms securely about her, Scott fell into a deep contented sleep.

She listened to his deep snores as they resonated about the room. She smiled to herself. That was easier than she thought.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

She laid there in the dark, staring at the ceiling mentally counting off the time. She estimated she should wait a good half hour before she made her next move. She needed to make sure Scott was deep in sleep and would not again awaken. She didn't mind the wait. It gave her plenty of time to think, and she had much to ponder. She hadn't always been this way when it came to men, so - driven. When had she become so cold and calculated in thought and deed? Always she thought. She always analyzed the situation, looked at all the options, chose a course of action designed to bring about the desired result and followed through with the plan. It was that simple. Why should she act any differently when it came to men? She raised a brow. She shouldn't. So she didn't. And that's when decided she had waited long enough. It was time to take matters into her own hands and control her own destiny.

Logan would be hers, even if she needed to take drastic measures to get him. It was a small sacrifice she chose to make. The desired outcome outweighed the risks. She narrowed her gaze and looked at Scott, relaxed in slumber, blissfully ignorant of the conflict warring inside her. She'd come this far. No time for second thoughts. There was no turning back now. She could do it. She had to do it. After all, it was only temporary. And she could handle anything temporarily. Anything.

His breath came slow and steady, heavy with fatigue. Probably the first time he'd relaxed in a long time. He looked young and boyish in slumber, his shaggy hair tousled from their love-play. Hair so soft. He also looked weary. She noted the fine lines about his mouth did not distract from this image; they enhanced it. He was a handsome man, she thought admiringly - not ruggedly so like Logan, but handsome in his own right – almost beautiful. Full sensuous lips, high cheekbones and a chiseled chin reminded her of an ancient Roman soldier. Powerful, brave, and proud. They were much alike this ancient warrior and this modern day mutant.

Not Logan though. He was no soldier. She couldn't picture him taking orders from anyone. No, Logan was the heart-pounding visage of a lone gladiator. She could picture him in the middle of the Coliseum, a sword in one hand a shield in the other while he fought wild beasts, the sun glistening off of his sun-baked body. She imagined his muscles bulging as he warred with a hungry tiger. Her blood began to race. She looked again at Scott, willing herself to breathe normally as she continued her perusal. The only thing that marred Scott's perfect looks were the ruby-quartz glasses he always wore. He had not yet learned to control his powers. She doubted he ever could. It would be his downfall one day. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was time to go to work.

She slid out of the bed and picked up her robe, securing it tightly around her waist. As she walked toward the door she gave one parting glance to Scott. He hadn't stirred. Quietly she slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind her. The hall was deserted and eerily silent as she made her way down to the lab to get the supplies she needed. She encountered no one along the way and arrived at the entrance without incident. She approached the key pad, punched in the code and the door to the lab clicked open. The dim lighting reflected off of the stainless steel cabinets, illuminating the room enough so no other lights were necessary. Without difficulty, she made her way to the storage area, gathered the bag she'd left earlier and continued on her mission. She carefully made her way back to the living quarters, tiptoeing as she passed each room, never making a sound. Pausing outside a bedroom door, she looked around to ensure she was alone. Satisfied that she was, she knelt down and opened the bag. She reached inside, withdrawing a thin hose and an oblong shaped canister. She uncoiled the hose, affixed it to the canister and slid the nozzle under the gap in the door. She turned the valve to release the gas and stuffed rags under the door so the vapors would not escape – in a few minutes, the occupant of the room would be unconscious. She smiled to herself. This was too easy.

Several minutes passed before she decided it was time to head to the east wing, back through what used to be called the servant's entrance. Not that they had ever had servants there at the mansion. None that she knew of anyway. It was more of a supply entrance, where groceries and deliveries were made during the day. Moments later she opened the door, the cold air hit her fully exposed body as she morphed into her natural state of lapis lazuli blue. Her golden eyes glittered in the moonlight. "You're on."

Others would have cringed at the formidable sight of the giant standing before her, but not Mystique – she feared no-one. He was tall, with long blonde hair and stood at least a head and shoulders taller than Logan, who appeared tiny in comparison. He was huge, muscular and covered from head to toe in furs – probably from animals he'd skinned himself. His ruddy complexion was partially hidden by the thick fur that swathed his face, but there was no mistaking the jagged scar that ran down his cheek. It started just below the corner of his right eye and ended at his jaw; a deep furrow from a long ago injury still red with anger - anger that would not go away until it was avenged. He'd been waiting nearly a lifetime. He would have his revenge of his sworn arch-enemy, and it would be sweet.

The giant was half man, half beast until provoked, then the beast within took over. How his mutation started was a mystery. He, like Logan, only retained scattered memories of his past. He had been human once though, that much he did know. And he knew Logan was the root of his problems and it was time for him to pay.

Sabertooth grunted and pushed his way past Mystique. He had no time for pleasantries. It was already late and dawn would soon be upon them. He wanted to be far away from here when that happened. He shortened his long strides and moved quietly through the mansion, listening for any hint of movement as he entered the private living quarters. Silence greeted him. Mystique had supplied him with a map of the mansion. She had been at the school for weeks, assuming one identity after another, waiting and watching for the perfect opportunity while he waited and watched from a distance.

Behind the mansion doors, all was not well. Everyone was worried. There was something wrong, something with Jean. Ever since she awoke in the lab, something was different about her. At first it seemed as though her power was stronger, surging through her at alarming speeds, and then as suddenly as it appeared, it began to disappear. Her telekinesis was off kilter, gradually becoming more and more unstable. That fit in well with their plan, since Mystique could only impersonate Jean in the physical sense. It would be a surprise to no-one if she were to suddenly lose all of her abilities. All the easier to dupe them.

They were so gullible, especially Scott. Sabertooth snorted with disdain. Over the past several weeks as he surveyed the grounds, he'd watch Scott from behind a copse of trees as he paced the floors at night. The pacing began in his room before moving out into the dimly lit hall. He always ended up in the same place. Outside _her_ bedroom. It was during one of those nights as he watched Scott's nocturnal restlessness, that the thought occurred to him to give Jean back to Scott. It would require a bit of misdirection and some help. He just had to convince Mystique to go along with his plan. She wasn't too happy about the idea. Mystique didn't want Scott, she wanted Logan. The unholy alliance was formed between them and both would get what they wanted: Mystique would have Logan, and Sabertooth his revenge.

The woman lying on the bed did not stir as the door opened. His eyes quickly adjusted to the lack of light and he smelled the gas as it wafted out of the room, heavy and medicinal. He crinkled his nose at the odor and surveyed the darkened room. There she was, lying on her side in the middle of the bed, cradling an oversized pillow as if in an effort to chase away the loneliness. He would bet she could almost fool herself into believing she was not alone. He looked at her tear-streaked face and shook his head. "_He's not worth it_," he wanted to say to her. And besides, he won't be around long enough to matter.

He scooped the unconscious Jean into his arms, and walked out of the room.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

_His head snapped back from the force of the blow, making him reel and stumble to the ground. He wiped the bloody trail of spittle from his mouth as he rose, eyeing his opponent with wariness. _

"_What's a matter, Jamey boy? Surprised to see me here?"_

_Jamey boy? Who was this guy, and why was he calling him Jamey boy? Although the name sounded vaguely familiar to him, it teased his senses then eluded him with a quiet abandonment. Logan glanced at the blood on his sleeve, then to his hands so white in contrast, and finally back to his opponent. He shielded his eyes from the blinding brightness of the sun as he looked up at the stranger. A series of long scars lined his face, partially hidden by wispy tufts of tawny colored hair, making him seem more like an animal than a man. Logan looked back at his hands again. He could almost say the same thing about himself. He thought of his own demons. He did not know what siren called to the beast within him, but she would not be denied. He could not control when or how it happened. He only knew it lay dormant, just under his skin, waiting for her to call. _

_What did this guy want with him?_

"_You must have mistaken me for someone else," Logan replied shakily, backing away from the tall outsider, looking in all directions for an avenue of escape. There weren't any. If he'd have backed up any further he would have met the solid resistance of the barn wall, instead he stopped short, pausing about a foot away from the doors, his brain scrambling for a way to stall the inevitable confrontation. _

_He didn't want to fight this man. He didn't want to fight anyone. He just wanted to be left alone. Alone with Rose. Whoever this guy thought he was, he would surely be in for a surprise. Logan was no longer the whiney teenager who had come to this god-forsaken place some years ago. He was now all man, hardened by the lessons life taught him. Working in the mines with seasoned men taught him to work hard, trust no one and to stand on his own. He held his ground shifting from one foot to the other – ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation. _

"_You're lying," the stranger said as he reached for a pitchfork. "Let's see if I can jog your memory, 'Logan'." He thrust the weapon toward him, making Logan jump back to narrowly avoid being skewered. "You're going to pay for what you did to me…"_

_The commotion brought a crowd of curious onlookers who gathered around the two men to watch the fight. Eager for the distraction from the day to day boredom of the mines, bets were placed as to the outcome. Most placed their wagers on the larger of the two stating the younger was too small, too weak in comparison to the well muscled stranger. Inside the ring of miners, catcalls and jibes incited the combatants to action. Logan and the stranger circled each other, looking for an opening to strike, measuring each other's strengths and weaknesses. _

_Pushing herself through the horde of onlookers, Rose called out, "Logan!"_

_The stranger's great height gave him an unimpeded view of the beauty struggling to reach them. He smiled at the lovely vision making her way toward them, and with a voice filled with quiet innuendo he paused in his pursuit to leer at her, his breath steaming in the cool morning air, "Hello, Rose." _

_She was brought up short as the familiar voice permeated the repressed memories locked deep inside her mind. "Oh my God," she said, fear catching in her throat. Her voice incredulous,"Dog!"_

"_I'll deal with you later, girl." Dog promised as he turned his attention back to Logan._

_Dog? Dog. He remembered. Anger surged through Logan as the memories came rushing back. All these years he'd blamed himself; and yet it was Dog. Logan carried around the guilt for years, an anchor weighing heavily around his neck, dragging him down into a deep abyss where no-one could reach him…and all this time it was not him. It was Dog. Dog killed his father. He remembered it in startling clarity, as if it happened yesterday. His mother screaming, the sound of gunfire, the flat thud of his father's head as it hit the ground… 'Papa!' He screamed. Blood was everywhere. It pooled about his feet as he stared in wild-eyed disbelief at the scene displayed before him. A child no more, he became a man that day._

_Berserker rage roared within Logan as he remembered. Snikt The bones protruded from his knuckles of their own volition and Logan sprang toward Dog with a primal scream. The mines had hardened Logan both in mind and body. Although smaller than the man standing before him, he was strong and quick and plunged forward with his blades extended, going in for the kill._

"_Logan, no!" Rose screamed as she rushed between them._

_The only sound was the sickening sluicing as his blades pierced her fair skin, embedding them to the hilt and exiting through her back. "Rose?" Oh God no, not Rose. What had he done? Hot tears sprang to his eyes as he swallowed hard._

_Rose looked at Logan with surprise then realization as she recognized her fate. She raised her hand to cup his cheek. "I should have told you, James…" she said her voice laden with regret, "I should have…" and she was gone. She never finished the sentence._

_No! His mind screamed out for vengeance._

The dream distorted and shifted shape as dreams are wont to do. No longer was Rose staring sightlessly into his eyes; Jean emerged through a haze of thick fog. Jean…his love, his life.

_She kissed him deeply, teasing him with her mouth and tongue. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer, melding her to him as he responded in kind. He couldn't get close enough to her, nor she to him. He inhaled her scent, the musky essence made him surge with desire for her. She belonged to him. Him alone. She captivated him mind, body and soul. He'd never needed anyone like he needed Jean Grey. She completed him, made him whole again. He promised himself he'd never be foolish enough to let her go again. He lost himself in the kiss._

'…_no, no, no, no,' he thought to himself. 'Don't go, not now, not yet. I'm just getting started.' He felt Jean pulling away from him. He reached for her, only to watch her drift further away._

'_Jean!' He called frantically. 'Jean…where are you?'_

'_Logan!' she called out to him. He couldn't see her. She'd disappeared into the thick fog. It swirled about him, heavy and dense, weighing him down as he tried to follow her. He could hear her breathing heavily. Then she was running, trying to get away, trying to escape. 'Logan!' She couldn't find him._

'_Jean!' he thundered. He couldn't find her, the panic rose like a storm within him, turbulent and violent. 'Jean!' he called once more. _

_Nothing. The silence was deafening. His thoughts of finding her intensified with a gut wrenching need only to be interrupted by the persistent calling of another. 'Help.' It was the same, yet different, familiar yet elusive, younger but ageless, hovering ever so close to consciousness yet never crossing that line. Subliminal in form and fashion, calling out to him, urging him to hurry. He should know who it is, but he was unable to focus. Words were not spoken, but there was the unmistakable feeling of being in danger. Great danger. It was Jean, but not Jean._

Jean! His exhausted mind slowly acknowledged the persistent message and he was suddenly jolted wide awake. The hair on the back of his neck rose and his skin prickled in apprehension; it was Jean, and she needed him.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

_I could feel him coming closer, chasing me, catching my scent in the wind – leading him right to me. A wolf on the hunt, his nose bent to the ground, sniffing the air with purpose as his feet pounded the hard uneven trail, instinctively knowing which way to go. He was relentless in his pursuit and he was gaining on me. The grin on my face widened in anticipation of the hunt. I'd always loved the challenge of the chase and the subsequent thrill of the capture. A feeling of dominance would course through me once my prey was caught; to know that I was the one in control, that I had the power. Yes, I loved the hunt. Only this time, I was the hunted. My heart pounded in my chest at the thought. He would have the power. He would be in control. He would dominate. But before he caught me I'd give him a good chase. I raced through the trees, darting in and out, playing a dangerously wicked game of hide and seek. The rustle of leaves behind me told me he wasn't far behind, if I could only make it to the clearing…_

_I laughed as I heard him stumble behind me, his warbled "Whoooaa" echoing in my ears as he fought to regain his balance. I looked back over my shoulder to see him quickly recover and resume the chase. I giggled at his clumsiness. He gave me a narrowed look that said, "Wait til I catch you." And I flashed him a 'You can try' as I picked up speed again. He wasn't giving up though. Not that I thought he would; no, he'd chase me to the ends of the earth – until he caught me. My body tingled at the thought of the things he would do to me when he finally captured me me. And he would capture me. I'd make sure of that. Just not so quickly. Were it a quick victory, the prize would not be so sweet. I wouldn't make it easy for him… I'd make him work for it. Earn it. And I would be his slave. I would bow down before him and slake his wildest desires. I would…_

_The breath was knocked out of me as Logan slammed squarely into me. We fell to the ground and he wrapped his body around me, protecting me, twisting around so he bore the brunt of the impact. We landed in a field of heather, its heady scent filling the air, filling my senses, filling my very breath. One moment I was lying on top of him inhaling the sweet fragrance of the flowers and the next thing I knew we'd reversed positions. I was now lying beneath him, my hands pinned to the sides of my head, as he stretched his long length against mine. I relished the feel of his weight upon me, the playfulness in his smile, and the darkening of his eyes…all signs telling me how much he wanted me._

"_You caught me." I smiled up at him._

"_So I did." He smiled back, his eyes promising untold pleasures. _

_I wriggled beneath him. "I'm all yours."_

"_Oh, yeah?" He teased back, pressing himself against me._

"_Yeah," I whispered breathlessly, lightly grazing my lips against his. _

_Logan whispered back, "To do anything I want?" He wedged his knee between mine and rubbed against me. _

"_Uh-huh" I mumbled as the friction warmed and caught fire within me. Logan teased me with his lips, softly touching mine, nibbling the tender buds until they opened wide for him, his tongue succeeding in driving me wild for more. His hands plunged into my hair, burying deep into the thick strands, enjoying the silky feel as they threaded through his fingers. He pulled back and smiled, knowing he was torturing me in the most seductive of ways. He moved against me, sending tingling sensations ricocheting through my body._

_I pulled him back to me, "Do you know what I want?" I whispered into his ear as I arched against him._

_He pressed me back further into the heather, "Tell me."_

_Visions of the two of us, bodies entwined and straining together, invaded his thoughts with skin-prickling intensity. Those thoughts, along with feelings of incredible need, insatiable desires and ultimate fulfillment, created a combustible combination of sight and touch. I held nothing back, giving him a mixed array of what I wanted. But that wasn't what he wanted._

"_Oh, no…you're not getting off that easy. I want you to tell me, not show me." He looked into my eyes as he said, "I want to hear it." He paused a moment and pressed his lips against my neck, his stubble sending shivers through me as he continued in a low whisper. "I want you to say it. I want to watch your lips, as you say the words."_

_Excitement shot through me like a rapid fire, threatening to consume me, body and soul. Oh God, he wanted me to say it. I didn't think I could do it. Showing him was one thing, but saying it? …that was definitely another. I could be bold and daring with the visions, letting him know exactly what I wanted and how I wanted it without uttering a syllable. Articulating it was a totally different story. I felt suddenly shy but decadently excited._

"_C'mon…" he urged, lifting himself up. His white tank stretched across his chest and his biceps bulged as they bore his weight all the while looking at me with those coaxing green eyes. "Do it."_

_Do it…he wanted me to do it. It would please him, and I wanted to please him. I would do anything to please him. I could do it. I could play this game. I looked deeply into his eyes and breathed, "I want you to kiss me." _

"_Where?" He moved lower, unbuttoning my blouse with one hand, while the other peeled away the soft material, making way for his mouth to travel down my collarbone and below. "Here?"_

"_No…" I gripped his hair with both hands, pressing him closer to me. "Lower."_

"_Lower?" He whispered with a grin as he thickened and pulsed against me. He was thoroughly enjoying himself. _

_I could only nod as he started his descent. His lips left a hot trail of liquid fire racing through me as he grazed my soft skin, playfully nibbling and lingering in certain areas of interest. My lacy black bra held a particular fascination, as he skimmed the edges of the dainty demi-cup with his tongue, pulling back the wispy material to encircle the hardened nipple with his warm succulent mouth. _

"_Here?" He taunted me._

_I could barely catch my breath as I grabbed hold of his shoulders, pushing him further down. "No…" I managed as I guided him further… "Lower."_

_He dipped his tongue into my naval, making me rise with anticipation. Logan pressed me back down with one hand and his free hand loosened the button on my jeans. I wanted him with a desire so consuming, I could barely keep still. Logan held me fast as his mouth continued its wayward path south. He tugged at my zipper with his teeth, growling in frustration as it caught on a bit of material, impeding his progress toward his goal. The sound sent chills of pleasure rippling through me. I lifted my hips to help him and he pulled the heavy material away, anxious to continue._

_He looked down toward his goal then back up to me, capturing my undivided attention with the intensity glowing in his eyes, "Say it." He commanded._

_I gulped. He ran his hand up against the inside of my thigh, sending shivers of delight to my core. How could I say it? How could I tell him? I could feel the panic beginning to rise within me. Logan's eyes fixed on mine and a lazy smile emerged daring me to tell him. He was loving my discomfort._

"_Tell me what you want Jean…just say the words…and I'll give it to you."_

_I silently arched against him. He wasn't buying it. "Say it."_

_I swallowed my pride and looked at him. "I want to feel your mouth on me."_

"_There, that wasn't so hard now, was it?" Logan asked and he buried his mouth between my legs._

The sound of clapping slowly broke through my dreamlike state. I tried to lift my head, better to discern where the noise was coming from, but was frozen. I couldn't move. No matter how hard I tried. I didn't know how long I laid there. It could have been a minute, it could have been an hour, it could have been a day. Time seemed to stand still in a mindless dimension all its own. And I didn't care. All I could do was lie there on the bed, my head flat against the pillow in order to keep the spinning at bay. I didn't know where I was or how I got here._ "Don't panic," _I told myself.

With slow deep breaths my anxiety lessened. I had to get my wits about me. Cautiously I opened my eyes, letting them become accustomed to the dim lighting and surveyed what I could about my surroundings. The first thing I noticed was the damp, musky smell, leaving me to believe I was in some kind of a basement or cellar. The walls were made of stone, and it was too dark to determine what type, but they looked solidly built. I was lying on my side in a narrow bed that had been pushed up against a corner wall which gave me an unobstructed view of the small room. It was meagerly furnished with bare necessities and the only light came from a single bulb hanging from the ceiling in the hall. There was no door, only wrought iron. I was in a cell.

"Well, that was pleasant," said the shadow through the bars.

_Sabretooth_. The hair on the back of my neck stood at attention as I identified the voice. How long had he been there? Long enough would be my guess by his comment. He'd been watching my dream and the thought of him being privy to such private moments left me feeling ashamed and intimately violated. _How had he done it?_ I tried to read his thoughts but was blocked. Not by him, but by something else. Something stronger.

"What's a matter, princess? All jammed up?"


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

He just wanted to check on her, to make sure she was all right. It was taking her a while to come to and that was worrisome. She should have regained consciousness before now but the effects of the gas were lasting longer than he'd anticipated. Too long; and he needed to protect his latest acquisition. She was more than a pawn in this game of chess. She was his queen. He needed her alive for his ultimate game of revenge. She was no good to him dead. At least that's what he told himself. He almost believed it. But the fact of the matter was he wanted Jean Grey. And he would have her. All in good time.

The scar on his cheek twitched at the thought and his eyes narrowed as he made his way down the twisted narrow staircase. The lighting was poor and the steps uneven but Sabretooth made his way with surety, seeing in the darkness with ease, sensing the obstacles easily as he maneuvered his great bulk through the small passage. He didn't need to see where he was going, he could rely on instinct alone – he only had to catch a whiff of her scent in the air and it would lead him right to her. He ducked under the low beam as he approached the threshold of the dungeon. It was dank and musky, the corners and passages filled with heavy cobwebs from lack of use. He brushed his way past the first few cells, ignoring the chains and manacles hanging listlessly against the walls and stopped in front of the one that held the still sleeping Jean. He'd like to chain her up. He watched her with more than a modicum of interest. He pictured her shackled to the walls begging him for more. He'd show her who was king. His hard gaze raked over her body. The steady rise and fall of her chest were the only signs to indicate she was still alive. She hadn't moved a muscle since the last time he'd checked on her.

He frowned. How much longer would she sleep? He was growing impatient. He wanted her awake. He wanted to taunt her; to tease her as a cat would tease a mouse. He wanted to play with her…toy with her. He wanted to touch her, and he wanted her awake so she would know it was him. Logan was going to be livid. He smiled. It gave him great pleasure to know that he had Jean right where he wanted her and Logan was helpless to stop him. The valiant knight would be too late to save his queen. This, he thought as he leered at Jean, was going to be so sweet. He'd have his revenge on Logan and his desires quenched in one fell swoop. It would drive Logan nuts, his scent on Jean – and he would definitely leave his mark on her. He had no intention of keeping her; she was just part of the plan. Logan wouldn't be able to touch her without thinking of him first. He pictured the look on Logan's face and chuckled at the vision. He loved games of strategy.

Everyone underestimated him. No-one ever saw this coming. He shook his head in amazement. Just because he didn't say much didn't mean he was stupid. On the contrary, he was exceptionally smart. He was five moves ahead of his adversaries. He anticipated every action and counter action. He had to in order to succeed in his business. One mistake and the game was over. With cold calculation he predicted their every move before they made it and watched as they fell helplessly into his trap. As far as a conscience goes, he didn't have one. He could ruthlessly torture, maim and kill without batting an eye or losing a wink of sleep. He was a mercenary in every sense of the word, hardened, determined and paid well for his level of expertise. He knew how to play this game and he was very good at it.

"_C'mon"…."Tell me."… _Logan's voice echoed against the walls in his mind. _"I want to hear you say it."…_

Sabretooth shook his head as if to clear his thoughts and raised a furry brow in Jean's direction. She still hadn't moved. Yet her voice rang clear as if she were speaking aloud.

"_I want you to kiss me"…_Jean answered and when she wasn't satisfied with his progress she urged him,_ "lower…"_

She was dreaming. He could hear it. He gripped the bars of the cell to steady himself as their rocketing emotions and sensual feelings ran through him. The smell of heather assailed him as she arched against him. He could smell her. The intoxicating aroma of her excitement teased his senses. _Jesus Christ_, he could _feel _her. Taste her. A mental mind fuck. He grew thick with need as she rubbed against him. He wanted to continue this rollercoaster ride of sensations, but on his terms. "_Do it_," he ordered as he became an interactive part of her dream.

His wish was her command as she answered. _"I want you to kiss me."_

"_Where?" _When she didn't answer, he prompted her. _"Here?"_ He said as he pressed warm lips against her collarbone.

"_No." _She grabbed his hair, pulling him hard against her. _"Lower."_

"_Here?" _Her breath caught in her throat leaving her incapable of speech as he started his decent, stopping here and there to taunt her further, making her writhe with desire.

"_Say it."_

"_I want to feel your mouth on me." _The musky scent of her arousal invaded his senses. He stroked and teased her with his tongue her until she exploded with pleasure.

"_Oh, God!"_

Oh God was right. Damn that was good! He wanted an encore. He couldn't stop himself from applauding. That was excellent, and he enjoyed a good show. _Bravo,_ he thought to himself as Jean slowly roused from her dream world.

"Well, that was pleasant." Sabretooth remarked.

Jean looked mortified as it dawned on her what he'd been witness to. Her face flushed scarlet as embarrassment washed over her. She'd have died of humiliation if she'd known that he had actually been a part of it. A willing participant. A diligent partner. He could still taste her.

It surprised him actually. He'd always been resistant to telekinetic powers, even Jean's. He didn't know why, but he was virtually impenetrable. Until now. The floodgates had opened and the information came rushing in. He seemed to be tuned into her subconscious mind and what he'd learned from her over the past two days was certainly eye opening. He'd be sure to use it to his advantage.

Jean tried to rise but couldn't. Sabretooth's smile widened as he watched the look of confusion spread across her face.

"What's a matter princess? All jammed up?"

She said nothing but eyed him warily.

"You should be." Sabretooth pulled up a high back chair and straddled it in front of her. "You're in a cell specially designed for you." He tapped the bars for emphasis while he grinned at her.

Jean looked at him questioningly, but refused to speak. She tried to sit up again but was instantly overcome with nausea and dizziness. She was forced to lie back down to stop her world from spiraling out of control.

"That's right, princess. You're pretty much incapacitated." He decided to enlighten her. "You see, this cell emits a sound wave that is tuned to your specific brainwaves. It triggers severe vertigo which basically renders you helpless." He waited a moment for the news to digest and continued. "If I were you, I'd keep still."

She laid there watching him, listening in horror, not quite believing what he was telling her but knowing without a doubt that he was not bluffing. She tested her parameters again, this time slowly, gradually easing herself up onto her elbows all the while taking quick shallow breaths to keep the nausea at bay. She managed to sit up, her back braced against the stone wall. He watched as the sweat broke out above her brow and how it beaded on her upper lip. Yes, it was working. He'd have to thank the Professor the next time he saw him. After all, it was his idea.

Jean couldn't trust herself to speak, afraid that the effort would trigger the vertigo, but she had to ask. She drew a deep breath and narrowed her gaze on Sabretooth.

"What do you want?"

It was his turn to remain silent. She'd find out soon enough. Jean tried another approach.

"How long have I been here?" Her voice cracked and she licked her parched lips.

"Long enough." He stood up and moved the chair back to the far wall, then came to stand before her. "I know so much more about you, Jean." He let that statement sink deep. Letting her wonder what he knew before he continued.

"Your likes…dislikes." Apprehension hung heavy in the air as he continued his perusal of her.

"Your dreams for the future…" he paused for affect. "Your fears." His gaze swept her from top to bottom, then back up again to rest on her still flat belly where Jean laid a protective hand. She looked at him uneasily.

He had the audacity to grin at her. He wasn't through yet. He knew. Fear raced through her body as he smugly confirmed. "I know about the baby."


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

The closer he got to the mansion, the more apprehensive he became. An overwhelming feeling of urgency spread through him as he revved the motor faster. He leaned forward, becoming one with the bike as he raced along the dark winding road. The fading moonlight dashed through the trees in a blur as he sped past them. Wind whipped at his face; the cold morning air bringing him alive, invigorating a keen sense of awareness. Every nerve anxious; muscles taut; his body a bended bow ready to spring; something was terribly wrong. Logan struggled to identify it, but it was like trying to put together a puzzle without all of the pieces. Or maybe he had all the pieces, but hadn't yet figured out how to fit them together to form a clear vision of what lay before him. An enigma: ever elusive. He felt like he should be heading in the opposite direction, toward the water, toward the sea. The voice that had plagued his mind since he'd left the motel screamed at him to turn around; but he ignored the plea and pressed on. He had to see Jean.

He knew he wasn't over reacting. He knew Jean needed him. And somehow he knew she wouldn't be home when he got there. It was a feeling he couldn't shake. Fear that he was too late consumed him. _Too late for what?_ He raced the motor faster, increasing his speed to decibel level.

Logan hadn't _felt_ Jean in a long time now. Where once she was so much a part of him, she'd made him whole again, now her absence left an empty shell void of any substance. At first he thought it was just Jean giving him some room, letting him continue in this futile attempt to find his past. Now he felt differently. It may have started out as her giving him his space, but it certainly wasn't that way now. He just _knew_ it. Jean was in trouble.

He still couldn't seem to fit the pieces together. Someone, something, somehow, somewhere was calling to him. It wasn't Jean, yet it _was_ Jean. That didn't make sense. Nothing made sense anymore. It was just a feeling he had. A premonition of danger. Not for him. For Jean. And he couldn't get to her fast enough.

A myriad of 'ifs' invaded his consciousness. If he hadn't been so damned obsessed by his past. If he hadn't taken so long. If he hadn't insisted on following one more lead. If he hadn't left her in the first place. If only he stayed. _And_ _if 'if' was a jackass, we all would ride it_ – Logan thought miserably. No use thinking of what could have been. He needed to concentrate on what needed to be done now. And the first thing he needed to do was find Jean.

The mansion appeared before him in the predawn light. The motorcycle skidded to a halt on the gravel drive, sending a spray of stones in the opposite direction as Logan cut the engine and hopped off the bike. All was quiet as he sprinted up the concrete steps and pushed through the heavy door. He didn't stop in the entryway, but headed straight for Jean's room, taking the stairs three at a time in his haste to find her. Desperation threatened to overwhelm him. He couldn't smell her. His chest tightened as he turned the corner and hurried down the hall.

The sound of Scott's muffled voice brought him up short. He couldn't have heard him right. Logan shook his head, as if to clear the thought from his mind when he heard it again; only clearer this time. There was no mistaking the name Scott uttered, 'Jean'. It couldn't be. His heart pounded against his ribcage. _Jean. _Before he could stop himself, Logan launched himself into the room to find Scott in bed, a naked Jean wriggling on top of him as he guided her hips forward and back, her head thrown back in ecstasy.

Anger raced through his body. Logan's first instinct was to rush to the bed and pull her off of Scott, and he proceeded to do just that when he suddenly stopped and sniffed the air. The couple froze in mid stride.

"Where's Jean?" Logan demanded.

"Logan, look." Scott started, as he eased his partner off him and pulled the sheet up about them. Logan's question had not registered when he continued his stilted explanation. "You've been gone a long time, and Jean…"

"That's not Jean!" Logan yelled.

"What? What do you mean it's not Jean?"

"It's not Jean." Logan insisted impatiently. "Can't you smell her?"

Mystique, still in her guise of the lovely Jean Grey, looked at Logan with amber glowing eyes, "I knew you'd come back."

Scott looked from her to Logan, shaking his head in disbelief. "No. I'm afraid I don't have your keen sense of smell, Logan." Scott didn't want to believe it. He didn't want to give her up. He'd just gotten her back. Now he was faced with the reality that he'd fooled himself into believing that it really was Jean, when all along he knew, deep down inside he knew it was too good to be true. Jean would never give up on Logan. He'd just wanted her so badly he turned a blind eye to everything else, hoping against hope that it was true.

"Yeah, but you can see, can't ya?" Logan snapped back as he pulled the sheet away from Mystique, exposing her naked torso. The single set of three one inch scars puckered in the early morning light.

"I didn't…I didn't notice." Scott said still not wanting to believe it.

"Don't listen to him Scott. He's trying to trick you."

Scott moved with lightening speed and grabbed both of her wrists, pinning her down to the mattress, "Where's Jean? What have you done with her?"

Mystique smiled up at him and morphed back into her natural state, her voice thick and raspy she smugly replied, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"What have you done with her?" Scott shook her. "Tell me!"

Logan didn't stay and wait for her answer; he knew it was useless. Mystique wouldn't tell them anything. He bolted from the scene and headed toward Jean's room. His room. Their room. He barreled through the door and looked around him. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The bed was unmade; an indentation still creased the pillow indicating the occupant hadn't been gone very long; several hours at most. No sign of forced entry. No sign of a struggle. Those facts should have allayed his fears, but they didn't. Jean hadn't left on her own. He sniffed the air, searching for clues. A light medicinal smell hung about the room, some sort of gas. That's why there was no sign of a struggle. And something else. The pungent odor of skinned animals could only mean one thing…Sabretooth.

And he had Jean.

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He could feel her fear as it threatened to spiral out of control. Sabretooth gave a soft chuckle, pleased at how well the plan was working. Everything was falling into place. He had her right where he wanted her. Alone and helpless.

"Does Logan know?"

Jean swallowed hard and said nothing. Her silence was telling.

"No…I didn't think so." Sabretooth withdrew a large metal key from his pocket and proceeded to unlock the cell. "That makes it even better."

His intent was clear as his gaze raked her body, his eyes darkened with lust as he entered the chamber. He smiled wide in anticipation.

"Stay away from me." Jean warned.

Sabretooth didn't pause, but made his way steadfastly toward the bed, unfastening his buckskins as he approached her. He wanted to finish what they had started, and he intended to do just that.

She raised a hand as if to ward him off. "Stay away from me," she threatened. "Or else."

He slapped her hand away in annoyance and pressed forward. "Or else what?" He grabbed both of her hands and raised them high over her head, effectively immobilizing her as his body covered hers from head to toe. His breath was hot on her face. Sabretooth rubbed against her and growled low into her ear. "You'll scream?"

He could feel her helplessness and that empowered him further. He shifted his grip and held both of Jean's tiny wrists in one large hand while his other wandered boldly, down her neck, along her collarbone, to caress a ripe breast swollen from pregnancy. Jean turned her head, unwilling to look at him as her body betrayed her. He watched as her nipple grew hard through the thin material of her nightgown in response to his touch and smirked to himself. He looked back up into her eyes, "Go ahead," he coaxed. "Scream." He bit the tender globe and she stifled a cry. Tears welled of their own volition, but she refused to call out.

He knew she didn't want to give him the satisfaction, and he also knew he was hurting her. Her breasts ultra sensitive to his rough handling swelled in protest, as her rosy areolas strained against the sheer fabric of her gown. He squeezed firmly and nipped the hardened bud once again eliciting a moan of agony from her. Sabretooth secretly admired her misguided determination as well as her tolerance for pain. Before he was done with her, she'd scream. With a new resolve he sucked harder through the silky material as she strained against him, trying to buck him off of her like an unwilling mare to a new stallion. Sabretooth was undeterred. He liked it rough. He would overpower her in this mating dance if it meant shackling her to the wall and taking her from behind. He hardened like marble at the thought and pressed her further into the mattress as he worked her nightgown up around her hips, exposing herself to him. Dark curls, still damp from their dream peeked out at him.

Sabretooth reached between her legs intent upon finding her core when a bloodcurdling scream tore through the room.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

I kept asking myself how this could be happening. Confusion settled in and time seemed to escape me. One minute I was sleeping securely in the mansion and the next I was imprisoned in a cell fighting to keep Sabretooth off of me; but my efforts to thwart him proved to be futile. He wouldn't budge. His solid bulk held me down as I struggled in vain. My body refused to obey my command to fight. I was weak and lightheaded and I couldn't stop him. And I couldn't stop myself. Still aroused from the dream, my body responded to his rough touch. Sabretooth knew it and took full advantage by pressing himself to me as I bucked ineffectively against him. He was enjoying himself; his self satisfied grin confirmed my suspicions. He thought my efforts useless, already declaring himself the victor as he inflicted pleasurable pain with a deliberate hand. _Please, no._

"Go ahead," he coaxed. His heated breath caressed my neck. "Scream."

Hot tears sprang to my eyes as he bent his head low and nipped hard at my breast. The pain bordered on the edge of nonsensical pleasure as he kneaded the tender flesh, making me whimper in despair. He was going to have his way with me and there was nothing I could do to stop him. The cool air brushed my thighs as he pulled my nightgown higher. _God, please help me._

I heard Logan before I saw him. Elation filled me as the primal scream rose deep from within him. It pierced through the air as berserker rage took over. _Logan._ He'd come. He'd come to save me. Unshed tears welled as the rocketing emotions threatened to overwhelm me. My knight in tarnished armor; ever fighting the demons buried deep within his past, now fighting for the greater good had come to rescue me. Thank God.

Quick as lightening, Logan pulled Sabretooth off of me and sent him flying into the bars of my prison where he landed with a loud thud. For the moment he lay there in a crumpled heap, unmoving apparently unconscious.

I'd never seen Logan so angry. His nostrils flared and he took deep hurried breaths. With a quick look of concern he glanced at me and asked, "Are you all right?"

I could only nod. All the strength left me at once, giving way to a detached yet mesmerized awareness of my surroundings.

Logan turned his attention back to Sabretooth who began to rouse. _Snikt_ The blades sprang from Logan's hands in anticipation of the fight to come. Sabretooth shook off his momentary confusion and stood to greet his adversary. A sinking feeling pooled in the bottom of my stomach as I watched in fascinated horror – another scene, another time, another place flashed through my mind. I tried to get up but broke out in a cold sweat and was forced to lie back down. I tried to call out only to have my breath catch in my throat. I hated being so helpless.

"Well, well, well," Sabretooth said with an arrogant grin. He leaned back against the bars and added, "Look who we have here."

Logan said nothing but remained alert and ready to pounce.

The scar along Sabretooth's cheek twitched in agitation as he pushed himself off the bars in a nonchalant manner and stepped closer to Logan. "How are you Jamie boy?" He taunted.

Logan looked over his opponent with a critical eye. They circled each other in the tiny room, assessing each other's strengths and weaknesses while I considered the pros and cons of both of them. Sabretooth was the taller of the two and had a longer reach, but Logan was leaner, quicker and had long adamantium claws that more than made up for the discrepancy in height and put them on a level playing field. You could say they were evenly matched. Both had quick healing factors, I realized - so the only way to win this fight would be to mortally wound their opponent, therefore this would be a battle to the death. I swallowed hard. Logan had to win. He just had to. I couldn't bear to think of what the rest of my life would be like without him in it.

Logan dodged the meaty fists and he slashed at Sabretooth with brutal determination, giving the beast no quarter as he pressed him back against the cell's bars. Like an outsider, I was helpless to do anything but watch the scene unfold. Logan screamed his frustration as berserker rage once again took over. He was invincible.

I'd never seen anything like it. In an instant it was over. I watched in stunned silence as Sabretooth's head rolled across the floor, landing in a corner, his face a mask of disbelief staring at me with unseeing eyes. Logan had completely severed his head from his body.

I turned my gaze to Logan, who stood there breathing hard as blood dripped from his blades. He stared down at the headless body lost in thought, paying no heed to the dark spots spattering his face and chest.

"Logan?" I asked hesitantly.

Logan looked up at the sound of my voice and immediately retracted his blades. In two short strides he was at the bed and had effortlessly scooped me up into his arms and carried me out of the cell. I wrapped my arms around his neck and snuggled my nose into the collar of his worn flannel shirt, relishing the masculine scent that was uniquely him; woodsy and raw with the barest hint of a good cigar. Relief washed over me as I breathed deeper and inhaled his heady fragrance.

At the top of the stairs Logan paused a moment listening for anything out of the ordinary then continued down the vast hall and out the front doors to his waiting motorcycle.

"Can you ride?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "I'm feeling better now that I'm out of that place." I assured him.

With a quick nod, he straddled the bike, turned the ignition and revved up the motor. He looked over at me and called out, "Hop on."

I swung my leg over the seat and straddled the bike, pressing my thighs to the back of Logan's and wrapped my arms around his waist. I could feel the vibrations of the engine between my thighs, powerful and insistent. I pressed my chest to Logan's back, molding myself to him and held on tight, interlacing my fingers so as not to let go.

Freedom. It never tasted or smelled so sweet. Leaning with the bike, we became one, and with the wind in our faces and the sun at our backs we rode silently home. The sun was setting in the distance and the air had turned noticeably cooler when we arrived at the mansion.

Logan parked the bike on the gravel drive. I didn't move. I just held onto him, my arms still firmly wrapped about him.

"I didn't think you'd come." I whispered.

Logan looked over his shoulder at me. "Have you so little faith in my tracking abilities?"

I smiled at his smart remark and shook my head. "No, I just didn't know if you could hear me."

I swung myself off the bike and waited for Logan. He put down the kickstand and hopped off the bike then said matter-of-factly, "I didn't hear you."

"You didn't? Then how did you…"

Logan reached for me and placed his hand against my still flat stomach.

"I heard the baby."

I stared up at him in surprise. He knew about the baby.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Logan asked.

I turned and started walking toward the entrance. How could I tell him? How could I tell him that I didn't know whose baby this was? How could I tell him that the odds were it was Scott's and not his? How could I tell him there was a baby coming when the last thing he wanted was to be saddled with a family when he needed to go find his past?

"At first, I wasn't sure I was pregnant." I began hesitantly. I stepped through the front door and headed for our room. Logan followed me upstairs, not saying a word but angry at me nonetheless. I didn't need to be a mind reader to know that. One look at his face told it all.

I didn't want Logan to think I didn't want him to share in this experience. But at first I really didn't know that I was pregnant. The week I was unconscious I didn't know what happened, that was the week I was due… combined with the stress and the physical toll put on my body…any number of things could have made me off or miss and then the symptoms didn't really start until later…and by then Logan was gone.

I walked into our bedroom and sat down on the edge of the mattress. I waited until Logan closed the door and turned back to face me. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms as he waited for me to continue. I hated that I couldn't get any kind of vibe from him. Another side effect of pregnancy I hadn't counted on. All of my powers were out of whack. At first they acted on impulse, I couldn't control when or where they would happen or for how long they would last, until gradually and completely everything had shut down. No telekinesis, no telepathy, no nothing.

"I thought maybe with all I'd been through, the stress of it all could have either made me late or skip completely. It's happened to me before. So, at first I didn't give it much thought."

Logan just stared at me, saying nothing, waiting for me to continue.

"Then when I did give it some thought, I came to the realization that I didn't know whose baby it was." Logan started to say something but I raised my hand to stop him. "As much as I want this child to be yours Logan, the odds are that it's Scott's."

Logan said nothing but the muscle in his cheek twitched in spasms. He probably hadn't considered that as a possibility. I tried to explain.

"I didn't know what to do, so I thought I'd just wait for the first sonogram and see how old the fetus was. If that wasn't conclusive I'd opt for an amnio. Then I would know for certain. And then you told me you had to go." I paused a moment, gathering my thoughts before I continued. "I knew you had to go and find your past Logan. I didn't want to stop you. And I didn't want you worrying about me or the baby. I had planned to tell you when you came back…if you came back."

"If?" Logan queried. "How could you think I wouldn't come back?"

"I didn't know what to think. We never discussed it. You never said you were coming back, only that you were leaving. And then you left. Without a word. What did you expect me to think?"

"I just thought that you _knew_. Like you knew everything else about me." Logan countered.

"I didn't know that." I looked down into my hands, trying to hold back the tears. I felt like that was all I did lately was cry. My hormones seemed to be in rare form escalating to new heights while my powers had dwindled to nothing. I didn't like not having control of either and I particularly didn't like displaying such weaknesses to anyone.

Logan came forward to kneel before me, taking my hands into his and kissing them softly. His love-filled gaze reached mine and touched my very soul. How could I ever have doubted him?

"You know now."

I did know now. Logan kissed me gently and wiped away my tears. It didn't change anything though. And I had to know how Logan really felt about the situation. How would he feel if Scott's my baby's father? How would he handle Scott being an active member of our family, dealing with issues from custody to visitation rights? Somehow I didn't think he'd like it very much.

"Are you prepared to have to deal with Scott for the rest of your life if he is the baby's father?" I searched his face, looking for any signs of irritation. There were none.

Logan answered solemnly, "I'm prepared to deal with _you_ for the rest of my life regardless of who's the baby's father."

He wanted us, the package deal, whether or not he was the father and that said a lot about the man kneeling before me. A fresh river of tears fell unchecked onto my cheeks. Logan swallowed hard, as if he wanted to say something, but yet was unsure of himself, as if he was afraid – he tried to speak, yet nothing came out.

I pressed my lips to his and whispered, "I love you Logan."

He looked at me as his confidence returned and said the words that would change my life forever. "Marry me Jean."

"You really would raise this child as your own even if it wasn't?"

"Of course I would. But you don't have anything to worry about Jean" he added with a sly grin, "I already know she's mine."


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

"How do you know?"

"I just _know_." Logan said.

His grin was infectious but I wasn't buying it. I had to ask, "How are you so sure?"

He looked downright cocky and I had to smile at him. There was the Logan I absolutely loved.

"Because she called to me," he replied smugly.

"So?"

"If she were Scott's, she wouldn't have picked _me_. She would've called _him_ for help." He smiled wide.

"But she didn't..." I added with a matching grin catching onto his logic. That's how he knew. She found him…from the womb.

"Nope."

"She picked you."

"Yep." He was practically gloating.

That was some serious father-daughter bond. Something was bothering me though. _Father-daughter?_

"How do you know it's a she?" I asked suspiciously, still not trusting this newfound ESP of Logan's.

"Because she sounded like you, only not you." Logan explained. "She felt like you, only younger, but different – she was as strong as you. She had to be to get through to me. And she was definitely female."

"Definitely female?"

"Yeah, she wouldn't leave me alone until I found you. She talked non-stop."

I punched Logan in the arm as he droned on about some of the more popular stereotypic traits of women. Then he pulled me down on the floor with him and wrapped his strong arms around me making me feel safe and secure once again. His lips nuzzled mine. Wisps of his rough hair brushed against my face sending electricity to race through my body.

A wicked thought crossed my mind. "As long as she knows when to shut up then, we're good right?" I nibbled on his earlobe.

Logan responded with a low growl and answered, "She knows. She stopped talking the moment I found you."

"Good. I'd hate for that to distract you." I traced the shell of his ear with my tongue.

"Distract me?" he echoed.

"Yeah," I said as I rubbed against him. "…distract you."

"I don't think that could distract me," his lips whispered against my neck.

"You don't?"

"No." He trailed lower, his mouth dipping to the hollow of my throat.

"Could anything distract you?"

"Not much." Logan raised his head and chuckled. I laughed along with him knowing that when he set his mind on a goal, there was no distracting him.

He suddenly sobered and cupped my face in his palm, forcing me to look at him. He searched my face, all signs of playfulness gone. My breath caught in my throat.

"Marry me Jean."

"Are you sure about this Logan?" I asked the tears welling before my eyes blurring my vision. _Damn hormones_.

Logan squeezed my hands in reassurance, "I'm sure."

I swallowed hard, my heart catching in my throat as I found myself asking him, "Don't you want to find out…about the baby…just to be sure?"

"I don't need to find out. I already know for sure. She's mine."

"Are you certain this is what you want?"

"Jean," he paused taking a moment to look deep into my eyes and continued, "I've never been more certain of anything in my life. I want you and I want our baby. I want a life together."

"What about your past?" He'd left me once, would he leave me again? I couldn't go through that again. The not knowing. The wondering. The hoping and praying that he would discover what he needed to and come home soon. To me. And now to us.

"My past will always be there and someday we'll discover it together, but right now, you and the baby are who's important to me. Our future _together_ is what's important to me."

Logan's sincerity tugged at my heart strings with a persistence that would not be denied. The tears fell silently as I searched his face. He meant it. Every word.

"Jean," he breathed against my lips. "Let me be the good guy."

* * *

_Three weeks later._

"You made it." I said to the Professor. "I was afraid that you wouldn't."

"Of course I made it. I told you I would." His smile was one you would bestow upon a favored child.

"I was beginning to wonder." He'd arrived just in time though. I couldn't imagine doing this without him. Charles Xavier was more of a father to me than my own.

"Unfortunately, I'm not like Logan. I don't seem to heal quite as quickly as he does." He looked down at his legs.

"How long before you know if the surgery worked?" The Professor had gone overseas to have an experimental surgery performed on him several weeks ago in an attempt to lengthen and fuse the nerves that had been severed so long ago back together. It had been quite an undertaking, rendering him relatively helpless as they kept him in an unconscious state while they reattached and tested each nerve. Had he been aware, the pain alone probably would have killed him. And had he been aware, he would have known about Mystique and Sabretooth and their plans. He was still in his wheelchair which made me wonder how good the outcome would be.

"Soon," he said.

"That's great." I beamed at him. Giving myself one more check in the mirror, I smoothed the soft white linen of my gown and adjusted the crown of flowers in my hair. I wore it loose, letting the waves fall as they would. Logan loved my hair down. A smile crossed my face as I thought of Logan. He didn't want to wear a 'monkey suit' as he called it, and personally, I couldn't picture him in one if I tried. So we decided to go somewhat casual. Logan conceded to wearing black dress pants and a long sleeve white linen shirt. No tie. No jacket. To compliment him, I wore a long white off-the-shoulder tea-length gown.

"I believe it's time." Xavier announced.

"Yes." I inhaled suddenly nervous yet happy beyond belief. This was it. My palms felt slippery as I grabbed my bouquet of spring flowers. I took a deep breath and forced myself to be calm as I followed the Professor out of the mansion and into the gardens where a wrought-iron gazebo adorned with greenery was set up for the impending ceremony. Rows of chairs dotted the lawn filled with students and other mutants who'd come to celebrate the nuptials. My family. Even Scott was there. Surprisingly, he and Logan had come to an understanding of sorts. They refused to let me in on the details, but I have a feeling this 'truce' of sorts had more to do with the baby than with me. At any rate, Scott gave Logan and me his blessing. They'll never be friends, but they have a grudging admiration for each other. It's a start.

Everyone stood when we appeared at the edge of the lawn. I gave my hand to the Professor who squeezed it reassuringly, and then he stood and placed my arm within the crook of his. I looked up at him in amazement.

"Surprise." His face lit up like a Christmas tree. "You didn't think I wouldn't walk you down the aisle, did you?"

"Oh, Charles." Other words failed me as we walked together toward my future. My future with Logan.

Who stood there in front of the gazebo gazing at me with an intensity that could light a fire. His shirt had the top three buttons undone and wisps of matted hair could be seen poking out of the V-shaped neckline. I shook my head; he certainly had his own way of doing things. The black pants fit him like a glove and molded to his thighs and buttocks in a way that made me want to jump his bones right then and there. He caught notice of my look and answered with a leer. I still couldn't read his mind, but there was no question about what he was thinking about. I smiled in return.

"Who gives away this bride," the clergy asked.

"I do." Charles replied as he transferred my arm to Logan who gripped it firmly.

"I won't run away." I whispered lightly to Logan.

"I'm not taking any chances," he whispered back at me with a teasing quality edging his voice. My spine tingled in response.

"Dearly Beloved," the clergy began. "We are gathered here today in the sight of God and these witnesses to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony."

We held hands throughout the ceremony, staring into each other's eyes, our love for each other evident.

"Do you Jean, take Logan to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love, honor and cherish until death do you part?"

"I do." I answered never taking my eyes off of Logan.

"Do you Logan, take Jean to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love, honor and cherish until death do you part?"

"I do."

"And now the rings." The pastor said.

Logan reached inside his pocket and pulled forth two wide silver filigree bands. He handed the larger of the two to the pastor to hold and took my hand in his while his other hand held the smaller band poised just in front of my ring finger.

"Now repeat after me, with this ring I thee wed."

Logan placed the ring on my left ring finger and said, "With this ring, I thee wed."

I took the other ring from the pastor, shaking as Logan placed his hand in mine. It was heavy and large as I slipped the ring on his finger and repeated after him, "With this ring, I thee wed."

"By the power invested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Logan didn't waste a moment. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me senseless.


	32. Epilogue

_Epilogue_

_A girl._ That's what Logan had said and that's exactly what we had. A beautiful, perfect little girl. Their bond was unbreakable from the first day she called to him. That was a little over three years ago. What a little hellion she was. 'Wild thing' he liked to call her; and she was wild. From her first cry, or rather yell she commanded much attention. She didn't squeal when she wanted something, she bellowed. Rina had much of Logan in her, from his dark brown hair to his piercing scowl. She looked just like a miniature version of her daddy when she was agitated and had his fiery temperament to go along with it. She could be very demanding and insisted upon doing things her own way. And she never gave up. Ok, so maybe she had a good bit of both of us in her.

I could hear their laughter outside, Logan's throaty and deep and _Wild Thing_'s squealing in childish abandon. I moved from the kitchen window of the cabin to the screen door where I could watch them play together in the bright mountain sunshine. It was a beautiful spring day, the weather crisp, though not overly so. Cool in the shade, yet warm in the sunlight; perfect weather for the two of them to play outside. I had to laugh with them, their fun was contagious. Logan was so large in comparison to the tiny toddler. He towered over her little frame and shortened his strides to match hers, looking ridiculous in the process. He tripped over his own feet which amused Rina to no end. She giggled like crazy as daddy awkwardly chased her around the knobby pines. I smiled at the scene. Contentment overwhelmed me.

Logan was happy. We'd made a pact. We would discover his past - together. Never again would he feel the need to be alone. His family now came first. His past still interested him, but didn't dominate his every waking moment as it once had. His priorities had changed. The dreams had stopped. Becoming a parent put things in a different perspective; where once he only had to worry about himself, he suddenly found someone else depending on him. And where once it didn't matter where or how he lived, he'd come to the realization that it was no longer enough. So we came back to the little cabin where it all began, relishing each and every moment together.

_Snikt_ The sound pulled me from my reverie. I watched as the little claws sprang forth as Rina practiced her moves on Logan. As quickly as she sliced he healed. "Good!" Logan praised her efforts, the pride he felt apparent in his voice. She was nailing him pretty hard. We had wondered what if any powers she would have, as it turned out she was truly daddy's little girl in both powers and disposition. Stubborn wasn't even the word for it. Both of them were headstrong and it was a true contest of wills when they locked horns. Logan usually gave in first – spoiling her as only an indulgent daddy can. Her sense of smell was keen and she could find Logan anywhere. That was evident when he went fishing one day. She had awoken from her nap and ventured out to find him, leading me by the hand, sniffing the air, turning this way and that until she found him at a nearby stream, nearly a quarter of a mile from the cabin. A regular chip off the old block - only not as hairy.

"Keep going," he encouraged her. "Harder."

She sliced and diced at his bare arms, his ribbed t-shirt torn in several places where she'd gone for his chest and belly. Logan let out a ferocious roar and _snikt_ his blades extended and he started to block and counter her moves.

_Be careful_ I thought to him. I didn't want her to get hurt and they were starting to play a little too rough for my liking. My powers had come back full force since giving birth. It was amazing how debilitated I became while pregnant, and Logan had shown a side of him that I didn't know existed by taking infinite care of me and catering to my every need.

_I've got everything under control Jean. _

I bit my tongue and anxiously watched as Logan ran after Wild Thing, his blades fully extended. I knew he could retract them in an instant, but they were as sharp as razors and she was just a toddler. Apprehension filled me.

Rina ran as fast as her little legs could carry her – darting in and out of the trees as Logan followed closely on her heels.

"I'm gonna get you." Logan warned.

"Nuh-uh." Rina countered with a giggle.

Logan sprang through the air, blades at the ready. My heart caught in my throat as I watched Rina stumble and fall on a slippery pile of leaves and twigs. She landed with a 'oomph' as Logan tried to stop himself from landing on her. He couldn't. I gasped as the scene unfolded before my eyes. Everything happened in slow motion, the realization that he couldn't stop himself dawned on his face as he fell prone, his body nearly covering the tiny tot. Suddenly Logan was suspended in mid-air just a few feet above Rina – his arms and legs fully extended, blades at the ready – hovering ever so close. I forgot to breathe. Time stood still for what seemed like forever before I finally regained my wits.

Logan looked from Rina to me, "Jean?" he questioned breathing hard.

"It's not me." I said in stunned fascination as I stepped off the porch and walked toward them.

Logan looked back at Rina as she chortled in childish pleasure at having done something new, very pleased with her results.

Still held in suspended animation Logan looked back at me, one eyebrow cocked in question. "So, this is how it's going to be, huh?"

A slow smile came to my lips as I looked from father to daughter, delight showing in my eyes that she'd inherited a little something from me as well. "I guess so."

The End

* * *

_Thank you dear readers for coming on this wonderful journey with me. I appreciate all of your encouragement, support and your thirst for more. I couldn't have done it without you. I'm taking some time off now from writing fan fiction to work on my first novel, Chalice of the Queen – a time travel romance. Once completed, I'll be back. I have more in store for Logan and Jean. Again, many thanx! Jet! Duncan_


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